


Night Everlasting

by TheWanderingAvarian



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Harm, Time Travel, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-02-17 06:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 43
Words: 104,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWanderingAvarian/pseuds/TheWanderingAvarian
Summary: When Noctis wakes at the beginning of his ill-fated road-trip, he is confused. In part because he should by all rights be dead, but mostly because everyone else he knows seems to be absolutely determined to ignore this fact. So begins a journey to find out what happened to him, why, and most importantly—why no one else remembers.





	1. Of Beginnings (Again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is my first time writing anything in a while. This originally started out as a vaguely humorous one shot on how none of the party acknowledges the differences in gear and level when starting with New Game Plus, then kind of spiralled out of control from there. As it turns out I am literally incapable of writing anything funny without somehow diving straight into angst.

Alright, this was officially getting weird. Not that it hadn’t been weird to begin with, it was just that now it was undeniably, indisputably _weird_ . It had been bad enough waking up from what had very convincingly felt like death to the bright sunlight of Leide at what appeared to be the start of his original journey. For one brief moment he was almost able to convince himself that everything that had happened had just been one long, unnervingly detailed nightmare. The moment had been brief because he quickly felt a familiar ache emanating from his middle right finger and sure enough, there was the Ring of the Lucii. You couldn’t get much more solid proof of time travel than that. His friends, however, did not seem to agree with him. In fact they’d been pretty stubbornly ignoring both the Ring and the general insanity of their position ever since Noctis had realised what had happened.  
  
At first it had been a bit unnerving, seeing them all so cheery and hopeful in their Kingsglaive uniforms, those being still more things that had apparently crossed the temporal shift. He’d never actually worked out where they’d managed to get the aforementioned uniforms. It’d seemed like a fairly ridiculous thing to ask while the world was ending. So, how is everyone now? Iris is a demon-hunter you say? My friends have drifted apart in my absence? You unwittingly sold us out to Niflheim, accidentally instigating your grandfather’s death and leaving you with a lifetime of guilt when you were seven? Well that’s very interesting Talcott, but what I really want to know is where you got those sweet uniforms! It just felt a little tasteless, was the point he was trying to make. And while he was on the subject: where had they obtained his “Kingly Raiment”? Why was he wearing it when he woke up when he definitely hadn’t been wearing it when he was absorbed into the crystal? He’d actually been trying not to think too hard about that particular question, since there were two possible solutions: one, that one of his friends (almost certainly Ignis) had made the clothes and dressed him in them after the crystal released him but before he woke up. That solution was somewhat unsettling and distinctly off-putting, but also miles better than the other solution; which was that Ardyn had dressed him, and thinking about _that_ for more than ten seconds honestly made him want to throw up.  
  
Anyway, he’d gone off on a tangent again, the point he’d been trying to make was that no one had yet reacted to, or said anything about the very obvious time travel that had just occurred. Noctis had initially been willing to write off their collective delayed reaction as being a trauma-induced byproduct of their inability to cope with the situation. It was true he hadn’t necessarily expected it from _all_ of them, Gladio being a stand out example given how until fairly recently he’d been the first to point out unusual and unhelpful behaviour in the face of overwhelming trauma. He didn’t seem to have a problem the current situation. Noctis considered that he was, perhaps, still a touch bitter about the fiasco. He quickly stopped considering it. If they weren’t going to deal with their problems, then he didn’t really feel like dealing with his. Still, it’d been going on for a while now, and just as he felt he had to say something or risk making the rest of...whatever this was, unbearable, it happened.  
  
“I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”  
  
Noctis had been able to deal with none of them wanting to acknowledge Luna’s death, the fact all of this was ultimately leading to his death, and going through the motions of the trip for the sake of normalcy; he could understand that. What he could _not_ understand, as he looked at the blank faces of his companions and the infuriating smug grin on the face of Ardyn, was acting as though they didn’t know who _he_ was. It was safe to say that by this point Noctis’s feelings for Ardyn were nothing more nor less than pure and utter hatred. He’d managed to offer the man what little forgiveness he had left in his heart when he killed him, or thought he had anyway. That it was supposed to have been one of the last things he ever did didn’t exactly hurt either. It had been fitting. Appropriate. The final send off for a broken and tormented man. Noctis had exactly no forgiveness for the man standing before him, knowing precisely what he was about to do over the course of the following months, and the long, long trail of corpses he would leave in his wake. Suffice to say he was _pissed_ when not one of them, not even _Prompto_ had any reaction to Ardyn’s presence than vague confusion. Clearly he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.  
  
He immediately summoned the Ultima Blade and took a pretty decent swing at Ardyn’s head. He wasn’t especially surprised when Ardyn was very suddenly no longer standing in front of him, and his blade sliced through empty air where his neck had been. The brief look of utter surprise on his face when Noctis swung at him was worth it though. On that note; for someone who wanted to die he’d put up a hell of a fight before his demise. If he really wanted death then he ought to have just stood still and let Noctis behead him. Still, better late than never, he thought, turning to see where Ardyn had warped to. Where he had warped to was behind his friends, and Noctis felt a surge of panic—what if he decided to skip the messing around and just kill them straight away? This panic quickly turned to frustration when he realised precisely what was going on. Namely, that they were shielding Ardyn ( _Ardyn_ ) from _him_ .  
  
“Noctis calm down at once!” yelled Ignis, marching towards him. This was a bit more than Noctis was willing to take at that particular point in time. Between their aggravating refusal to acknowledge any of what had just happened, ignoring Ardyn and now even defending him, Noctis had had just about enough. “What are you doing?” hissed Ignis as soon as he was close enough to be heard.  
  
“What am _I_ doing?” growled Noctis, struggling to keep his voice level. “What are you doing? Why are you _defending_ him?”  
  
“Why am I—Noctis you just attacked a complete stranger! You’re the one who needs to explain yourself. I know your engagement is troubling you but this—”  
  
“Damn the engagement! This has nothing to do with the engagement! Drop the act already Ignis, this has gone on long enough. I can get how you wouldn’t want to deal with everything else that’s happened, it’s weird, it’s upsetting, I get it—but Ardyn? You’re seriously going to act like this bastard’s a total stranger? Even you Prompto?” he yelled, his anger building. “Even after what he did to you?”  
  
Then he caught sight of Prompto’s face and felt roughly as though someone punched him in the stomach. The confusion he saw there - the horror, even, that had to be genuine. He felt all his anger suddenly melt away. They seriously didn’t know what happened. He felt a grim nausea begin to fill him as he took in their faces. Prompto just seemed confused and possibly a little horrified at his attempted murder. Gladio had taken up a defensive position in front of Ardyn, but was clearly extremely out of sorts, not used to having to protect others from Noctis rather than the other way around. Ignis had initially been angry, but that anger had quickly given way to concern as Noctis’s outburst continued. But of all the faces he saw, the expression on Ardyn’s was unquestionably the worst. He was watching him calculating scowl, clearly furious at his plan being ruined. Noctis didn’t think he’d actually seen Ardyn scowling before. He usually did everything with such affable maliciousness he almost came off as harmless. Almost. But now he was angry, and worse than angry, unpredictable. Noctis hadn’t quite grasped the full implications of attempting to kill Ardyn straight away until that exact moment. Now Ardyn knew he knew him, and that meant that things were going to change from here on out.  
  
On the one hand, not knowing precisely what Ardyn was doing at any given time was a fairly terrifying situation in and of itself. On the other, it would be difficult for things to end up much more utterly screwed than they were the first time this happened. It was possible that this was actually a good thing. It was also possible he was deluding himself. It occurred to him that his time was probably better spent thinking about how to find a way out of the mess he’d just gotten himself in.  
  
“Are you sure you’re feeling quite well Noct?” asked Ignis, his voice now much more gentle, though there was a distinct note of I-think-you’ve-had-a-nervous-breakdown in there too which Noctis didn’t particularly appreciate. He couldn’t deny he wasn’t exactly feeling great though. Seeing Ardyn, and being reminded of what happened to him last time was making him feel roughly as though the ground had been pulled out from under him, and was in no particular hurry to get back. His vision was also going alarmingly fuzzy around the edges. A familiar ringing began to sound in his eardrums. He was going to pass out, he just knew it. His last thought before lapsing into unconsciousness was that he hoped his friends had enough sense to keep Ardyn as far away from him as possible.


	2. Repeating, Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short intermediate chapter this time, but that’s mostly because the next one is getting seriously long and I couldn’t really keep this scene in without it getting ridiculous. Hope you enjoy reading!

When he awoke it was dark outside. He was in the room they’d rented the night before Insomnia fell. Fortunately there was no sign of Ardyn; he was probably revelling in the ruins of Insomnia with the Emperor by now. Or at least, Noctis assumed he was. He didn’t know exactly what Ardyn did with the seemingly endless free-time his position afforded him, and he didn’t _want_ to know. But now he was awake he doubted he’d be able to get back to sleep. When his friends woke he’d have to explain his behaviour and his outburst, which was going to be unpleasant to say the least.

What was the best way to say ‘I’m going to die’? He’d struggled with it enough the first time, but this was so different...he had no idea how to approach it; or anything else about the fact it seemed like he and he alone had time travelled. He felt simultaneously annoyed and disorientated by the realisation that none of his friends had realised what had happened. Where exactly did they think their new clothes had come from? How did they think he’d obtained the Ring of the Lucii without ever seeing Luna? Their denial of the presence of the Ring was particularly inexcusable since he’d been very obviously using it to kill weak daemons for days now.

It had started out as a form of catharsis, but he’d gradually begun to use it only when necessary once he realised the burns from the use of the Ring were beginning to leave scars. It also hurt to use it, much like the other Royal Arms, but he’d acquired quite a high pain tolerance over the course of his disastrous road-trip. Just wearing the Ring was a near constant source of discomfort, but lately he’d found that he was getting used to the feeling—certainly it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. All the pain he experienced was beginning to feel like that. It just faded into the background. He was unable to muster enough motivation to even worry about it. He had little motivation to do anything anymore—after all, wasn’t all of this essentially pointless?

Forging the covenants, collecting the Royal Arms, it was all leading him slowly towards his inevitable death. And it wasn’t only his death either; Luna would die, Jared would die, Ravus, the Emperor, the millions that perished as the Starscourge ravaged all of Eos. All of them were going to die. And for what? What bright new future could they expect with everything in ruins, no leaders and only one source of power left in the world? The Starscourge was gone but it had done its work. Was it really worth it to do everything all over again? So many lives wasted…

Noctis found himself staring at his wrist, where the marks that signified the favour of the Six were once etched into his skin. As he stared at his blank skin an idea began to form in his mind. In order to defeat Ardyn and end the Starscourge a certain number of things needed to be true. First, he needed to be the True King—something he apparently wasn’t when he entered the Crystal the first time. Second, he needed the Ring of the Lucii; a problem neatly solved by how it had somehow travelled through time with him. Third, he needed the Royal Arms, which, again, were already in his possession. So, all he really needed to do to kill Ardyn was gain the favour of the Six. It sounded so easy when he thought about it like that, just one thing on the checklist. Of course, gaining their favour again would be no easy task. Especially since he needed Luna to forge the covenants for him.

But he _could_ do it, the more he thought about it the more sure he was that it was possible. Bahamut had told him that he’d needed the power of Providence to kill Ardyn and end the Starscourge. A power he’d acquired by sleeping in the Crystal for almost ten years. But he’d already done it—he already had the power of Providence, and he’d already given his life in order to end the Starscourge. That had to count for something, didn’t it? It was even possible—unlikely perhaps, but entirely possible he had everything he needed to kill Ardyn already. Now he knew this he wished he’d been more persistent in his attempt to end the man the moment he laid eyes on him. That was another problem wasn’t it? Had he managed to hold off his murderous urges and pretend he’d never seen Ardyn before at Galdin Quay, he’d know for certain that he’d show up in Lestallum to help guide them to the Disc of Cauthess. As it was, he had no idea what Ardyn would do next now he knew Noctis knew who he was.

He also still had no idea how explain his position to his friends when they woke up. They weren’t happy with him as it was, and would probably be even less happy if he attempted to kill Ardyn every time he saw him. Even if he was the Chancellor of Niflheim, that still didn’t really constitute to an excuse. Not to mention his remarks about Prompto’s torture at Ardyn’s hands. Well, they wouldn’t know it was torture exactly, but they _would_ know that he thought Ardyn had slighted Prompto in some way, despite them not having met as of yet. Yes, this was going to be very difficult to explain. He almost wanted to run—to grab his things and the Regalia and drive straight to the Disc of Cauthess and wake Titan already, covenant be damned. Of course the idea wasn’t particularly practical, or very fair on his friends. He just didn’t want to face them after what happened though. It was a familiar feeling; reminiscent of when he was still in school and hadn’t attended lessons because he couldn’t drag himself out of bed, or more recently, how he’d felt in the aftermath of the destruction of Altissia.

He knew there was nothing he could do to stop it though, and instead lay back on his pillow and tried to think of some kind of excuse for his behaviour. He thought back on their encounter with Ardyn. He remembered how Ignis had looked at him after his outburst. Like he almost pitied him. He could use that, perhaps. It was fair to assume that they thought he wasn’t in his right mind when he attacked Ardyn. It was even possible they’d been thinking it for a while, given how stubbornly he’d been ignoring them over their perceived denial of the situation. He could pretend he’d had a nervous breakdown over the engagement and throw in something about nightmares to explain the bit about Prompto. Hopefully that would work. He gradually felt his thoughts becoming increasingly clouded and slowly felt himself drifting out of consciousness again, the world fading into blackness once more.


	3. Breaking Point

He was in the midst of a seemingly endless horde of daemons, swinging the Ultima Blade, warping over and over again, only just missing the stabs and the swipes of an unending mass of enemies. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d entered Stasis, how many ethers and potions he’d broken, desperately trying to stay alive long enough to finish off just these last few daemons. But they just kept coming. The moment it seemed like he’d killed the last one, more appeared to torment him—accompanied by the terrible scraping, screaming sound they made as they materialised. His attacks were getting slower. His dodges were later and later, and he felt claws on his arms and fangs in his legs. His body couldn’t cope with the strain of being ripped apart and sewn together again and again, and the potions became increasingly ineffective.   

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this tired. It was like he was moving in slow motion. He glanced at the sky, scanning for any sign of light, of release. There was none. The sky was consumed in a dark shroud. Ash fell around him. The sun would never rise again. He was going to die. He felt his knees collide with the ground, sending shockwaves through his entire body. He looked up at the Iron Giant towering over him, watched as it raised its sword over its head, staring down at him with dark, unseeing eyes.   

‘Were you a person once?’  

The sword came down on his head.  

He woke in a cold sweat, a scream dying on his lips as he realised where he was. He was in Galdin Quay. It was 756. He was safe.   

“Noctis? Noct? Are you alright?”   

It was Ignis, who was sitting at his bedside, hand on his arm. It seemed like he’d been trying to shake him awake. He lay back down onto his pillow, trying to steady his breathing. 

“I’m fine.” he managed, though he still sounded a little choked up. “Just a nightmare.”   

Ignis looked doubtfully at him. Convincing him he wasn't in his right state of mind was probably going to be a lot easier that he'd counted on.   

“I am willing to accept you had a nightmare, Noct. What I am not willing to accept is that you are ‘fine’.” said Ignis, his voice shaking a little.  

He felt guilty that he’d almost brought Ignis to tears within the first few days of their trip. He must be really worried about him if he was this emotional about it. Still, he’d prefer to explain his ‘condition’ while the everyone was present so he didn’t have to do it multiple times. It would be easier to keep his excuse straight in his head that way.  

“Where are the others?” he asked, still sounding a little bleary.  

“They’re waiting outside in the restaurant…” he hesitated, clearly reluctant to continue. “Noct, I am— _we_  are concerned about your health. You’ve barely spoken to any of us since we left Insomnia, you haven’t been sleeping, you’ve been going out hunting monsters almost every night, and now  _this_. You remember how you tried to assault that poor man don’t you?” Noctis just nodded in confirmation, not having enough energy to continue the conversation from there. “Noctis, please, tell me what’s been troubling you. You don’t have to tell the others if you don’t want them to know, but I need to know what’s wrong. You can’t go on like this.”   

He sighed as he sat up in his bed. It looked like he was going to have to do this individually after all. Where to begin though? What was he even going to say? He should have planned this out better. 

“It’s just…” he began, gesturing vaguely, and he was alarmed by how cracked and tired his voice sounded. “Everything…” he murmured, and he felt his throat constricting as tears began to form in his eyes. “Ever since we left...I can’t do this! I can’t…”  

As he trailed off he collapsed into sobs and he honestly had no idea whether they were real or not. He quickly found that once he’d started it was very hard to stop. He hadn’t had the chance really, to actually stop and think about what had happened. Ever since he got on the train to Gralea it had just been one thing after another right up until he gave his life to stop the Starscourge. And then he’d come back here. Now he had time, time to process everything that had happened to him and he just couldn’t stop crying. So many people were dead because of him. Why? Why did so much have to be sacrificed for the sake of one mistake? It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. He felt the tears run down his cheeks as he struggled for breath between sobs. He didn’t care how it looked to Ignis, who by this point had pulled him into a hug, letting him cry on his shoulder. Yeah, he wasn't going to need to convince him about his mental health. His brain seemed to be taking matters out of his hands quite nicely.  

He didn’t know how long he spent sobbing into Ignis’s shoulder, how long it took to control his breathing, to be able to think straight again. He had a feeling it was a while though. What to do now? He couldn’t explain what had happened, not with any honesty anyway. He felt strangely empty again. It was like all the emotion he’d felt over the past few months had just exploded out all at once, and now he was just left feeling exhausted and apathetic. He was still clinging to Ignis’s shoulder, unwilling to face him now that his...episode was over. But the longer he stayed put the more he began to worry about what Ignis must be thinking, the conclusions he was coming to without Noctis’s input. Hesitantly, and still not quite able to look Ignis in the eye, he withdrew, sniffing, and busied himself in looking for some tissues. 

“There are some tissues over on the table.” said Ignis, tilting his head in the direction of the coffee table in the centre of the room.   

Noctis found himself stumbling over to them, and was disconcerted by how tired he felt. On reflection, he hadn’t really gotten much sleep that night, between worrying about what he was going to say to his friends and his increasingly violent nightmares. He felt a little ridiculous, sitting around in his pyjamas, blowing his nose and studiously avoiding Ignis’s gaze. It was almost...normal. It had been such a long time since he’d felt this way; he’d nearly forgotten what it was like, just being normal. He felt like he was going to start crying again, but that would only worry Ignis even more, and besides, if he cried any more today he thought his tear ducts might dry up.   

He finally gathered the courage to look at Ignis again, and sure enough he was watching him with obvious concern in his eyes. But wait—he hadn’t noticed before, but Ignis’s eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, like he’d also done his fair share of crying that morning. That didn’t make any sense though, Noctis knew he’d been behaving strangely, but he didn’t think he’d done enough to warrant actual crying on Ignis’s part. He knew Ignis took his role as Noctis’s advisor and caretaker very seriously, but surely not  _that_  seriously? No—something was wrong. He felt stupid for not noticing it before, after all, why would both Prompto and Gladio be waiting outside already unless something had happened? But if it had why hadn’t they woken him? What could possibly be so troubling as to bring  _Ignis_  to tears?   

He glanced out over the ocean in an attempt to clear his head. He hadn’t really appreciated how nice this room was in the past. They hadn’t been able to afford to stay there much the last time he did this, in fact he could probably count the number of times on his hand. He didn’t really know how they’d been able to afford it the first time, but they’d soon had other things on their mind...wait… 

He wanted to slam his head down on the table in frustration. How could he have been such an idiot? Of course! Today was _that_  day. He’d been acting like Insomnia had fallen ever since he awoke in the past, and, as far as he was concerned, it already  _had_  fallen. It hadn’t even dawned on him that, up until last night, his father, Gladio’s father, and everyone else in the Citadel were still alive and well. They’d been dead for what felt like so long he could hardly remember what it was like to know they were alive. And he still couldn’t remember; the moment was snatched away from him so quickly. They had been alive, but now they were dead. Again. The first casualties. Well, at least now he knew what Ignis had been crying about.  

How had the others reacted though? Gladio lost his father last night, Prompto lost his parents, Ignis lost his uncle and presumably whatever other family he had living in Insomnia, since he knew they lived near the Citadel. How were they holding up? The last time this happened he’d been too caught up in his own grief to particularly notice what they were going through, something he now felt intensely guilty about, despite it having happened over a year ago. Over a decade ago, actually, if he was being technical about it. He knew Prompto had been upset for a while, and he’d attempted to cover for it by being even more exuberant than usual, distracting himself by trying to take Noctis’s mind of his own grief. But Ignis and Gladio...neither of them had said much about it.  

He knew Gladio had missed some of the misery by learning Iris was still alive, but both of them had to have been upset over Clarus’s death, not to mention Jared’s. He’d always suspected that Gladio’s anger towards him after Altissia at least partially stemmed from this. Noctis knew that he tended to collapse inward when he was troubled, he’d always done it, and it had always frustrated those trying to take care of him. Six, he was even doing it _now_. Gladio...didn’t. He wasn’t Gladio, so he didn’t know exactly how he dealt with his problems, but having essentially lived with him for a year he felt he was in a pretty decent position to guess. Gladio always seemed to be  _doing_  something, whether it was training or reading or looking at old artifacts they’d picked up, so he thought it was safe to say he dealt with things by distracting himself from them. That was probably what he was doing now, rather than sitting around in their hotel room, worrying about what to do.  

Then there was Ignis. Ignis had said nothing about Insomnia’s fall to him over the course of the trip, and his behaviour hadn’t noticeably changed from how it usually was. He was fairly sure that Ignis, like him, tended to keep such things on the inside. He was a lot better at hiding it than Noctis was though. In fact, he’d seemed a lot more worried about  _him_  than the fall of Insomnia itself. But perhaps that was his way of coping? After all, that was what he was doing right now—worrying over him, when there were much more important things to worry about. Perhaps  _he_  was Ignis’s distraction? If Ignis was worrying over him, then he didn’t have to worry over anything else. It was his duty, after all.  

“Noctis?”  

Ignis’s voice stirred him from his thoughts, and as he looked back at him and saw the concerned frown on his face he realised he’d probably been staring staring blankly out of the window for some time now. He really wasn’t helping his case. Well, he was helping his case as far as ‘using the excuse of having a mental health crisis to avoid having to explain time travel’ was his case, but definitely not as far as ‘I may or may not be having an  _actual_  mental health crisis having to deal with this general insanity’ was his case. He was leaning back towards the former, but the latter was causing him more than a little anxiety and he still didn’t exactly feel like he’d fully recovered from his mini–breakdown earlier. He also definitely didn’t feel ready to try and convincingly mimic shock about the news he knew Ignis was about to tell him, which would only worry him further.   

“I’m fine now,” he said, hoping he sounded convincing, “I promise.”  

“Noctis...there’s something I need to tell you.”   

‘Here it comes.’ thought Noctis grimly. 

“I’m sorry for keeping it from you, but...perhaps it will be easier if you read it yourself.” said Ignis, rising from his seat and handing him a newspaper he hadn’t realised was there before. 

‘INSOMNIA FALLS’ was printed in bold letters over the top of the paper. He didn’t exactly have to read the article to know what it was about. But that was what he found himself doing, almost on instinct, knowing he’d missed it the first time he did this. The article wasn’t particularly informative, mostly just conjecture on what had caused the attack, which was to be expected since it wasn’t like anyone who attended the peace talks had survived that night. Well, except the Emperor. And Ardyn. Which, now that he thought about it, was a bit strange. Not his survival—he’d have been delighted if Ardyn had died as Insomnia fell, but that he’d apparently felt the need to come all the way out to Galdin Quay to meet them for no particular reason. Then hightailed it back to Insomnia to watch it fall, once again, for no particular reason. Last time this happened they’d arrived at Galdin a few days before Insomnia fell, and Ardyn had met them then, so he must have been watching them. That was unnerving.  

“Are you going to be alright Noct?” 

Once again Ignis jolted him out of his musings. He was slightly embarrassed that he’d forgotten that he was there. He really wasn’t leaving a good impression that morning. First having a terrible nightmare, then breaking down sobbing before being able to explain what was wrong, and now periodically becoming dead to the world around him every ten seconds or so. He really hoped Ignis wasn’t going to try and make him explain things again. Between his general apathy and getting repeatedly lost in his own thoughts, he got the distinct impression that trying to do anymore explaining would just end up with him in uncontrollable tears again.  

“Yeah. Let’s meet up with the others.” he said, and was glad his voice wasn’t trembling quite as much as before, though that might leave the wrong impression, now he thought about it. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” said Ignis, looking pointedly at his pyjamas, which he’d completely forgotten he was still wearing.  

Today was just not his day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, it's another chapter! This was actually quite fun to write, mostly because I like making Noctis miserable. Poor Ignis probably doesn't know what to think now though, its just one thing after the other. 
> 
> As far as a schedule goes I should be updating once a week, but if that changes I'll let you all know. Anyway, thank you to everyone for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!


	4. The Start of a Journey

He didn’t take too long getting changed in the bathroom and soon returned to the bedroom, though he still didn’t feel fully prepared to face the others yet. Ignis hadn’t said anything else about his strange behaviour though, so that was one good thing at least.

“Are you ready to go now?” asked Ignis, who, while not exactly _saying_ it, clearly didn’t think he was up to it.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” he said, as certainly as he could, given the situation.

As he began to follow Ignis through the door, it occurred to him that he didn’t actually know where there were going precisely. To meet with Gladio and Prompto in the restaurant, obviously, but then what? Last time he’d insisted on seeing the ruins of Insomnia himself, just so he knew for certain it was real. He didn’t exactly have that problem this time around, and he also didn’t want to waste time that could be spent preventing the ten years of darkness from ever happening. But equally, could he deny the others the closure of seeing Insomnia fall for themselves? Wasn’t that a bit selfish of him? He still hadn’t decided exactly what to do when they emerged into the main body of the resort and he finally caught sight of Gladio and Prompto again. 

They were both sitting on stools around the main restaurant area, apparently too preoccupied with their own thoughts to attempt conversation, which made Noctis feel a little better about his own fairly miserable attempts at it so far. As he and Ignis approached, Gladio was the first to notice their presence, immediately lifting his head and then beginning to get up from his stool. Prompto wasn’t far behind him.

“Noct! You’re finally up!” he said, and Noctis couldn’t help but notice the slight tremor in his voice, not quite masked by his upbeat tone. He _really_ wasn’t ready for this. “We were beginning to think you’d never wake up.”

“Yeah, you were in pretty deep.” said Gladio, and while Noctis couldn’t hear anything amiss in his voice he could clearly see the tense way he was standing, as though ready to spring at any moment.

Something was wrong. Well, obviously something was wrong—their home had just been utterly destroyed and Niflheim had won, but there was something else as well. He’d been expecting questions about what to do next, upset over what had happened, possibly even anger at his lateness; not half-hearted jabs about his sleeping habits. Then he realised: this was why Ignis had been so hesitant with him earlier.

He’d almost been too caught up in his own thoughts to notice it, but Ignis had waited an unusually long time before telling him about Insomnia. That was probably in part due to his little...episode, but mainly motivated by his previous behaviour, which, of course, they had experienced too. They were still worried about his state of mind after trying to attack Ardyn, let alone all his other strange actions since then. That was why they hadn’t immediately woken him up upon discovering the news about Insomnia: they’d been concerned about how he might react. Six, they might even have worried that he’d turn to violence after what happened. And he had no way of alleviating their fears since he’d been doing everything under a misapprehension he had no way of explaining without sounding completely insane. Fabulous.

“I know what’s happened.” he said. The less time they spent worrying over his mental state the better.

“O-Oh, really?” said Prompto, evidently a bit shocked that he’d taken it so well.

Under any other circumstances he’d have been slightly offended. Gladio shot Ignis a look that Noctis took to mean ‘Why did you tell him?’ Apparently they’d discussed this beforehand.

“I guess that’s that then.” said Gladio, though he still seemed displeased by this turn of events.

“What are we going to do now?” asked Noctis, hoping he might be able to pass off the decision to his friends, giving him a little more time to think about his situation.

“That decision is up to you Noct.” said Ignis, turning to face him. No such luck.

“Well, shouldn’t we at least go and see if it’s true?” asked Prompto, desperation and hope flooding his voice in equal measures. “I mean, it’s not like _nobody_ got out, right?”

He so badly wanted his parents to be alive. Noctis felt his former feelings of guilt for ignoring his best friend’s distress multiply by several factors.

“It’s true that we have yet to see whether or not these rumours are completely accurate, not to mention we have no way of knowing whether or not the King survived.” said Ignis.

It was still deeply unnerving to him to think that his father had been alive right up until a few hours ago. He’d also mostly forgotten that they didn’t yet know who was dead and who wasn’t. Insomnia’s fall and his father’s death; the two were so intimately connected in his mind he had trouble distinguishing them, which was understandable given they’d happened at more or less the same time. He’d had to go and meet Cor at the blockade to find out last time, which would also lead to him getting the keys for the Royal Tombs. Which he didn’t need, since he already had all the Royal Arms in his Armiger.

He still hadn’t quite wrapped his head around how no one but him had noticed the difference in their gear yet. Not to mention the obscene amount of money they’d acquired over the course of their trip, which had also helpfully transported along with him. Still, a part of him didn’t want to go back to the blockade again. He was still angry over the deaths that had occurred in his absence, and the apparently meaningless nature of his final sacrifice. Going to see the ruins of Insomnia again would only aggravate him further, and besides, at this point it was essentially useless anyway. He already knew what he would find there, and it wasn’t like anyone but him would benefit from going there. If he was going to be doing things differently, he was going to start now.

“He’s gone.” said Noctis, his voice now steady. He had a plan. “I can feel it.”

He couldn’t feel it. Well, not anymore anyway. But he _had_ felt it the first time this happened: a shift in his magic. He’d done everything he could to ignore it at the time, but this time it was going to be different. The others had no way of knowing he was lying, since magic was poorly understood even within the royal family. There was no way this could fail.

“What? How?” asked Prompto.

“My magic, it’s...different.” he said, hoping that was enough to convince them.

“You’re quite sure about this Noct? There’s nothing else that could be causing you to feel this way?” asked Ignis, using the same tone of voice he’d used after Noctis’s outburst about Ardyn.

His plan to convince Ignis he was having a nervous breakdown had apparently worked a little too well, even if he didn’t know whether he was actually acting or not. Alright, so this might be a little harder than he thought it was going to be.

“I didn’t feel like this until I woke up this morning.” he said. “It has to be because…”

He deliberately let his voice trail off towards the end. He may not feel much now, but he remembered how he felt the first time, how he hadn’t wanted want to face what had happened.

“Well, if you’re sure then it might be better not to go back to Insomnia.” said Gladio, though he looked about as convinced of Noctis’s reliability as Ignis was. “Rumours or not, it won’t be safe for us there anymore.”

“Might not be safe for us _here_.” said Prompto.

Noctis recognised this part of the conversation. It was true—but only to a certain extent. Yeah, they’d had MT’s dropping on their heads every other minute, but it was never anything they couldn’t handle. Noctis had a sneaking suspicion that may have had something to do with Ardyn, but quickly put the thought out of his mind. He wanted to think about Ardyn as little as he possibly could until absolutely forced to.

“Well Noct? We appear to be at an impasse.” said Ignis. Looked like this was going to be up to him after all.

“I say we go to Lestallum.” he said.

“What? But that’s ages away! How will going _there_ help?” asked Prompto, dismay written all over his face. He hated doing this to Prompto, but he felt that if he didn’t do something now he never would. This was a turning point: change everything, or nothing. He _had_ to do something. He couldn’t let them die all over again.

“Lestallum’s the nearest city to Insomnia; if the rumours are true they’ll have refugees pouring in soon. If we want news, that’s the best place to go.” he said.

There was another reason, of course. Soon Titan would be awakened by Luna, and the faster he dealt with that little problem the better. There was also the fact that Iris would be arriving in Lestallum fairly shortly as well, and she’d be able to get the others up to speed without sounding clairvoyant.

“I suppose...when you put it like that…” mumbled Prompto, obviously still upset about not being able to confirm the news with his own eyes.

“We have our destination then.” said Ignis, and he began moving towards the exit.

“Wait, we’re going now? Like, right now?” asked Prompto.

“Right now.” said Ignis. “Everything’s already in the car. It’s best if we start moving as quickly as possible.”

“Let’s get going then.” said Gladio, moving to follow Ignis. “Come on Noct, we haven’t got all day.” he said as he passed Noctis, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Y-yeah, sure.” he said, trailing behind them.

His mind was elsewhere; he could hardly believe he’d actually convinced them. They were actually doing this. This could be his chance to solve everything. No one had to die this time. But as he stepped outside he still felt uneasy, almost afraid he’d be smited on the spot for his transgression. Nothing happened, of course, but his anxiety wouldn’t shift. Hopefully he’d be able to relax in the Regalia, but somehow he doubted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, multiple character interaction—finally! Honestly, writing this chapter was really difficult and I'm still not sure if I got the dialogue balance quite right, but hopefully it reads alright. I _have_ planned the direction I want this story going in, so rest assured that actual plot will be happening fairly soon. In any case, thank you to everyone still reading and I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!


	5. Arrival at Lestallum

He was back in the world of daemons and darkness. This time he knew better than to try and stay and fight. The moment he heard the screeching wail of daemons materialising he began to sprint as fast as he could in any direction to escape them. This strategy had worked for a time—he was no longer being ripped to shreds every ten seconds or so at least, but it still took a toll on his body. He quickly found himself running out of energy faster and faster, and he still had the same problem as before: the daemons just kept appearing, with no end in sight. He'd worked out by now that there would be no respite, that the Sun would never rise again. This was his legacy: the ten years of darkness. But the ten years would stretch out before him, unending, unyielding. There was no escape.

Was this some form of further penitence he had to pay for all those who had sacrificed themselves for him? Hadn't he sacrificed everything he had when he gave his life? But what was the use in wondering anyway? No one was going to answer him. Not even the Gods could live here. Wasn't that why they banished Ardyn in the first place? Noctis buried his head in his hands. He was exhausted. He couldn't keep running from the daemons indefinitely, his body would soon give out under the strain. He had no idea how long he'd been trapped there; he hadn't realised how much he relied on the light of day to recognise the passage of time. His constant weariness didn't help matters. How long had he been awake? He was already so tired when he woke up. A familiar screeching filled his ears. It was time to go.

As he began to run again, he suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot up his leg from his ankle. It was his old injury: all this running had aggravated it, and now he would have to face the daemons again. He turned to face what seemed like a horde of goblins. On their own, they were weak and easy to kill. In groups, however, they were much more troubling. Noctis waited to be attacked before attempting to strike. Goblins were fast; once they had an opening they ruthlessly exploited it for all it was worth, striking repeatedly with razor-sharp claws. Noctis nimbly dodged the first attack, quickly hitting back with a polearm, wanting to stay as far out of its reach as possible.

At first the battle seemed to be going well, he was still able to move fairly quickly as long as he kept off his bad leg and he managed to take down a fair few goblins. However, just as he was beginning to think he could soon best the creatures, one managed to get a hit on him: more specifically, on his bad leg. He felt claws tearing through his muscles, knocking him off his feet, leaving him vulnerable to further attacks. Sure enough, before he even had time to work out what was going on, he felt a burning pain in his sides. He desperately tried to grab a potion out of his Armiger, but he found he couldn't grasp it, all his energy was slipping away as his blood flowed out from under him. He felt incredibly disorientated, unable to focus on anything but the agonising pain of a thousand claws tearing through him as his world faded into darkness.

He woke in a panic, though he managed to hold back a scream this time.

"Noct! Noct, it's okay. You're going to be okay."

It was Prompto this time. He had his hands on Noctis's shoulders and was looking at him with a mixture of worry and panic.

"What happened?" he asked, everything seemed so blurry, so far away...

"Hey, hey!" said Prompto, shaking him by the shoulders. "We're not losing you again buddy."

The world was slowly coming back into focus. They were in the Regalia. They were safe. Part of why it had been so difficult to concentrate was that everything was still moving by at a rather alarming pace. They seemed to be rushing to get somewhere.

"I'm fine, really," he said, sitting up in his seat and brushing off Prompto's hands.

Gladio gave a snort from the front seat, and though Noctis had no way seeing, he knew Ignis's face was reflecting the same sentiment.

"Really? What's today's date?" asked Prompto, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"Uhh..."

Wait, what _was_ today's date? He hadn't really had to think about the date for almost a year, so he honestly had no clue other than that it was around about late spring...so May-ish. He wasn't going to say as much though. The last thing he needed was to get the month wrong and make them think he was even more messed up than they thought he was. Not that this whole situation wasn't really, _really_ messed up, he just...couldn't tell them. He didn't even know if they'd believe him, and he needed them to trust him, to some extent, if he was going to be able to go through with his plan. Such as it was, anyway. He hadn’t been able to get much further than: deal with Titan as soon as possible, attempt to kill Ardyn whenever feasible, and deal with the rest as it happened. But heading to Lestallum was a step in the right direction. Or so he hoped, anyway. But he'd stopped concentrating again, hadn’t he?

"You _actually_ don't know it, do you?" said Prompto. "Wow, I knew you were kind of out of it, but this is really something else!"

"H-Hey, it's not that bad!" he retorted, trying to defend himself. "You know I lose track of time without a routine."

"Yeah, there's losing track of time, and there's not knowing what date it is, I mean, come on dude. And it's not like you were heading to nothing, you were going to your wedding, remember? On the twentieth of May?"

He did remember. He'd never planned on actually attending said occasion, but he _had_ remembered it was something that was supposed to happen, which was more than could be said about the majority of what he'd been doing these past few days. Oh well, at least he knew it _was_ May now. No closer to the actual date, but still.

"Not like it matters now." he said.

"Oh, right, sorry..." mumbled Prompto, awkwardly.

Right, they didn't know that Luna was still alive yet. He should write all this down somewhere, it'd keep him from making any more tactless or just plain weird comments.

"It's fine. We won't know anything for sure until we reach Lestallum anyway." He said, hoping to ease Prompto's anxiety a little.

"Speaking of which, we're almost at our destination," said Ignis, and sure enough he could see Lestallum looming in the distance, black against the orange sky. Was it almost evening already? How long had he been asleep?

"Yeah, you've been out for a while. Ignis said to let you sleep, since you aren't feeling well and everything," said Prompto, a little nervously.

‘Not feeling well’? Now that was the understatement of the century. But still, they could have woken him after he’d been out for a few hours. Letting him sleep through almost the entire day felt…wasteful. There was nothing to be done about it now though.

He glanced out of the window and watched as they sped by the Disc of Cauthess. For a moment he wanted to ask Ignis to turn off and drive towards the meteor so he could just get it over with, but the mood quickly passed. He had no idea whether the Empire had already settled in there yet, and while he was probably skilled enough to take them down as it was, he wasn’t so sure about his companions. He didn’t want to put them in unnecessary danger. He remembered all too well the consequences of doing that last time. Was there any way of defeating Titan without endangering his friends? The obvious solution was to fight him alone, but that would only upset them, not to mention drastically increase his likelihood of failure. It was difficult, and he wouldn’t have too much longer before he had to decide.

“So, what’s the plan when we reach Lestallum?” asked Prompto, who seemed a little more cheerful. Noctis couldn’t help but wonder how genuine he was being.

“The first thing we should do is find a place to stay overnight, it’ll be dark when we get there,” said Ignis.

Noctis remembered his eagerness to avoid being out after dark at the start of the trip, when they weren’t yet strong enough to handle the daemons. Soon they wouldn’t have much of a choice. Noctis had spent most of his first few nights after time travelling hunting daemons, partially because he was angry at his friends for their perceived denial of the situation, but mostly so he could get a clearer idea of the daemon’s strength and the length of the nights. At the moment, the sun was still rising and setting normally. But that wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Wouldn’t it be cheaper to camp outside the city?” asked Gladio, who was as enthusiastic about staying in hotels as ever.

“Oh come on, it won’t cost _that_ much to stay in a hotel, and besides they have showers and beds and everything,” said Prompto, who was as enthusiastic about camping as ever.

His job was to forever be the mediator it seemed.

“I agree with Prompto,” he said.

“It seems you’ve been outnumbered Gladio,” said Ignis, with a touch of amusement.

“Fine, whatever,” he grumbled.

As they lapsed into silence again, Noctis found himself wondering how they were going to cope with this change, and where it would ultimately lead him. He could stop many people from dying, he knew that much. But he couldn’t save himself. In fact he was practically racing towards his death, and none of them knew it yet. Was he really doing the right thing? Would he be able to tell them when the time came? If he’d actually managed to kill Ardyn back at Galdin, would he have died afterwards? He’d been trying to put these thoughts out of his mind, but in the silence they raced through his head, unrelenting.

However, as they drew nearer and nearer to Lestallum, they began to fade away once more, pale against the intimidating bulk of the city, lights blazing against the encroaching darkness. He felt dazed as they arrived, like a far more intense version of déjà vu. He underestimated how severe it really was as he got out of the Regalia, and almost ended up face first on the pavement. He was disoriented, the world feeling intrinsically off somehow. Like he shouldn’t be there. The feeling was gone as quickly as it came though, and he was upright once more.

“Hey Noct, you okay there buddy?” asked Prompto, hands on his shoulders again.

“Yeah, just a bit tired I guess,” he said, not wanting to worry his companions with yet more strange behaviour.

“Only you could be tired after sleeping for like eight hours,” said Prompto, more amused than anything else.

He caught sight of Ignis and Gladio talking just out of the corner of his eye though, and got the distinct impression that they were a lot less amused than Prompto. Not that they were angry with him, but that he was concerning them. He needed to find some way of reassuring them; which was much easier said than done, but an opportunity presented itself as they came back over.

“How are you feeling Noct? Any better?” asked Ignis, treading lightly around the subject.

“Yeah, much better, thanks,” he said.

He knew that his word alone wouldn’t convince them, but it was a start.

“You up to looking for a place to stay then?” asked Gladio, who, while fairly good at hiding his concern, still looked a little worried. Perhaps he had seen his near fall earlier.

“Yeah, actually I think I might have an idea of where to go,” he said.

“You…do?” asked Ignis, bewilderment clear on his face.

“Yeah, there’s a city map just over there, we can look at it to find the nearest hotel,” said Noctis quickly, realising a little too late how strange that must have sounded.

That was it, when he went to the hotel he was making a list of things he should and shouldn’t know so this stopped happening.

“Nice one. You know, if you were that observant when we were training…” said Gladio.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he muttered, remembering how brutal training with Gladio had been. He didn’t think all the observance in the world would have been able to help him when the very act of warping was so difficult.  He was much better at it now, obviously, and thankfully, much like their new clothing, it was something his companions seemed determined to ignore at all costs. He still needed to work out what was up with that actually.

“Hey, look, there’s a hotel just up the road!” said Prompto, who’d seen fit to look at the map while they were talking.

Ah yes, the Leville. That’s where they stayed last time, and it had certainly been convenient, but Noctis didn’t feel like turning in for the night just yet. He _had_ been asleep for almost the entire day after all.

“Do you guys want to go ahead and book in without me? I want to look around the city for a while.” He said.

“Are you sure Noct? Do you think you can handle it?” asked Ignis, clearly trying to strike the balance between justifiable concern and appearing overbearing.

“I’ll be fine Specs; and I’m not tired yet anyway.”

“Well if you’re sure…” he murmured, uncertainty ringing clear in his voice.

“Come on Iggy, if the kid says he’s fine, then he fine. He doesn’t need you worrying over him all the time.” Gladio said, and Noctis thought that he, like Prompto, seemed a lot cheerier than he was before.

“Fine, but if I hear you’ve collapsed in the street tomorrow morning I won’t be happy.” 

“See you later then!” called Noctis, already heading away from the group. 

“Be careful!” Ignis shouted after him.

But he wasn’t listening any more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray, another chapter! This was another fun one to write; it was interesting to see how everyone would react to Noctis's weird behaviour. Noctis's dreams are always fun to write, and I think I have a better hold on the character dialogue now, having gone back and played like seven more hours of the game. Anyway, let me know if you liked it, and thank you to everyone still reading!


	6. A Fateful Meeting

His first thought was to re-establish his knowledge of the layout of the city. Lestallum was big, but it was nothing compared to the vast expanse of Insomnia, and as he jogged through the twisted streets and narrow alleyways he was relieved to find that, in this respect at least, his memory had held true. He still knew where the street vendors were, the shops and the restaurants, and, though the thought was a little unnerving, it almost felt like home. More like home than Insomnia ever was.

His life in the Citadel seemed so long ago now, he could barely remember it, and what he _could_ remember felt so _empty_. Or perhaps that had just been him. Periods of emptiness and apathy alternating with intense anxiety and hopelessness seemed to have defined his life back then. It was like he’d been trapped on an inevitable path to a slow, painful death. Perhaps that was a slightly melodramatic way of putting it, but ever since he realised the Ring was what drained his father’s strength, caused him to be so tired, so _ill_ , and realised that one day it would be his, that’s what he’d felt. It had been bad enough realising the thing would gradually suck away at his dad’s life force until there was nothing left, knowing that eventually, maybe even soon, he would die. But knowing that he would also face the same fate, that becoming King spelled his death as surely as an incurable illness; he just couldn’t deal with it.

Everything had been too much back then. He hated being cooped up in the Citadel, where everyone he knew treated him simultaneously as both someone who _should_ do better, who _should_ take more responsibility, who _should_ be more prince-like, but also as someone they knew was incapable of these things. It had been no less frustrating at school, where he was away from all his responsibilities as a prince, but his classmates still talked more about him than to him. They just stared at him and ran away from him, and acted more like he was an animal at the zoo than a fellow pupil. He’d felt like nothing about him was right, wherever he was, whatever he did.

It had gotten so bad that even when he had his own apartment and never even had to _be_ in the Citadel, he’d still find himself unable to do even the most basic of tasks as he sank deeper and deeper into his own mind. His thoughts would paralyse him, stifle him, trapping him in an endless cycle which only got worse the longer it lasted. Sometimes he couldn’t even bring himself to get out of bed. The only thing that had helped was Prompto’s friendship. Prompto could actually motivate him to go out and do things, even if only for the sake of not letting his new friend know what a mess he usually was. It better than nothing though, and it _had_ helped him to improve his school attendance.

It was different on the road-trip though; for once he wasn’t the prince, he was just another person, like anybody else. It had been so…nice, to just be a person. But that was over now. Not being treated like a person—that was still happening, thank goodness, but the carefree, almost light-hearted part of their trip had ended before it ever began. Of course, you could only be so cheerful after having your home destroyed, but, for him at least, a good portion of the trip had been a considerable improvement on what came before. Not so this time, and that, more than anything else, was what was probably worrying his friends the most about his behaviour.

He just about managed to push these thoughts to the back of his mind as he jogged out of the city and towards the viewing platform that looked out onto the Disc of Cauthess. He couldn’t help but feel drawn to the meteor, and it frustrated him that he had to wait so long to complete his trial. He still had at least a week before Titan would show any sign of awakening, and it would be a miracle if he managed to last that long without some kind of major intervention on the part of his friends. He pushed himself up from where he was leaning on the balcony with a sigh. He needed some way to kill time, and if he hadn’t been tired before then he definitely wasn’t now.

Quite suddenly, he felt something pushing at his leg and a familiar high-pitched whine.

“Umbra?”

Sure enough, the dog was looking mournfully up at him, as though he’d done something to upset him.

“What’s wrong boy? Has something happened?” he asked, reaching down to scratch him behind the ears.

Umbra jerked away from his touch, causing Noctis not a small amount of alarm, and continued his unhappy whining.

“Hey, did I do something wrong? What’s gotten into you?”

Umbra barked, presumably in affirmation of his first question. Just one more thing to add to the list of things that didn’t make sense anymore.

“Can you show me?”

Umbra barked again and started down the road out of Lestallum. His friends were _not_ going to be happy about this. Still, what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them, right? He reluctantly began to follow Umbra into the darkness.

“Hey, if it’s down the road I could just drive us there,” he said, and immediately felt a little ridiculous telling a dog something like that. He knew that Umbra was an Astral Messenger, and as such could probably understand him, but that didn’t mean anyone just watching him would think he was any less crazy.

Umbra just unhelpfully barked and continued walking down the road. There were definitely drawbacks to having so-called “Messengers” that were incapable of complex communication. He shivered slightly in the cold air. Even while wearing his comparatively thick suit and cloak, the cold still seemed to creep through and settle over him, chilling him to his core. He hadn’t remembered Cleigne being so cold at night, but perhaps he’d gotten used to the temperate conditions in the crystal. He’d elected to continue wearing his anachronistic clothing out of a combination of apathy and a vain hope that someone, somewhere would actually notice that he shouldn’t be wearing it. He was rapidly losing faith in that hope.

After a few minutes he took a glance around at the landscape Umbra was leading him through. They were still walking along the road, which was slowly but surely causing his anxiety levels to rise with each step he took. He was fairly sure he was capable of handling any daemons that were foolish enough to try and take him out while on the road, but memories were powerful things. Suffice to say the number of times he’d had to slam on the breaks as an Iron Giant rose ominously from the tarmac was enough to give him considerable pause. Not to mention his recent nightmares. He’d die a happy man if he never had to lay his eyes on a another goblin again. Alright, perhaps that wasn’t strictly true, but the sentiment was accurate.

“I suppose there’s no point in asking where you’re taking me?” he asked, and Umbra barked happily in affirmation. Had he not known better he’d almost think the dog enjoyed being mysterious.

“I have to be back in Lestallum by morning you know. Specs will skin me alive otherwise.” he said, doubting Umbra would particularly care.

Umbra’s slightly guilty sounding whine indicated that he was likely to have three very pissed off friends whenever he got back. He sighed. He wondered why someone more competent hadn’t time-travelled instead. Ignis would probably have stopped this whole mess already. _He_ wouldn’t have forgotten Insomnia hadn’t fallen at the start of their journey. He also probably wouldn’t follow a dog several miles out into nowhere out of boredom. He was a lot better at decision making than Noctis.

A small moment of relief was granted to him as Umbra finally led him off the road and out onto the plains. He could vaguely tell where they were headed now.

“We’re going to the Disc of Cauthess? You know Titan’s still asleep right?” He said, at which point Umbra started barking excitedly and broke out into a run.

Noctis ran tentatively after him, not entirely sure whether Umbra’s reaction meant he was right, or if he’d just seen a squirrel. He showed no signs of slowing down though, so he continued to follow, hoping that somehow he’d finally get some answers this way.

The moon shone brightly in the sky that night, illuminating the landscape just enough that Noctis had a general idea of the terrain, even without the help of his torch. Umbra bounded on ahead, his grey fur hiding him well in the darkness, flying across the plains at a sprint. Noctis could barely keep pace with him, but quickly found that each time he felt like he could run no longer, he’d get a strange burst of energy and suddenly felt able to keep going. He hoped Umbra would accompany him back, if only so he didn’t become completely exhausted. Umbra gave the occasional bark, almost as though checking Noctis was still following him as they sped on through the darkness.

Eventually, after what his watch told him was three hours, and his legs told him was several days, Umbra began to slow, before eventually coming to a halt. It wasn’t hard to guess why. Sure enough, an Imperial blockade prevented any further progress.

“Guess we have to back now, huh?” said Noctis, teasing the beleaguered dog.

Umbra barked in what Noctis read to be a defensive tone.

“Well if Titan’s not awake yet, I don’t really see the point in being here, so unless you’re going to show me something…” he began, turning to head back up the path to Lestallum, and trailing off as he saw what was now behind him.

“It was not the Archaean the King was brought to meet.” 

“Gentiana?”

She stood a little way ahead of him, looking out over the blockade, as well as she _could_ look anyway, with her eyes still closed. She remained as cool and aloof as ever. If she was concerned about the course of action he was taking, she showed no sign of it on her face. She turned towards him as she began to speak.

“I come to convey a message to the King. Soon the Oracle will arrive, and the King must complete his trial.” She said, her voice smooth and unwavering.

“Why?”

He didn’t know exactly why he said it. Gentiana was one of the Astrals herself, and as such had only ever given him information when she deemed it necessary, just like the rest of them. He knew she wouldn’t answer him, not in the way he wanted. But something inside him was enraged, and he felt a dull ache in the back of his skull, like there was something important he’d forgotten.

“The Chosen King must gain the favour of the Six in order to fulfil his destiny,” said Gentiana, unfazed by his question. Nothing new there then.

But then he hit upon an idea. Barring the notebook, Gentiana was his only means of communication with Luna. There were many things he wanted to ask her, but he also had questions for Gentiana _about_ her, one of which particularly stood out, given all this talk of destiny.

“What’s the destiny of the Oracle?” he asked.

“The Oracle must forge a covenant with each of the Astrals to aid the Chosen King in his task.”

“It won’t kill her?”

Gentiana quite suddenly opened her eyes and stared straight at him, her unyielding gaze boring holes straight through him. Noctis got the distinct impression that that was the wrong thing to say. He hadn’t really considered it possible before, but he’d never truly thought that Gentiana cared about Luna as a person. Yes, she had told him that Luna had restored her faith in humanity, and even seen it for a moment, but he’d always thought that this was an accessory to her respect for the Oracle. But for her to have such a strong reaction to the question…perhaps he’d been wrong 

“The Messenger wonders why the King would ask such a question,” she said, and her voice was as expressionless as ever, but her eyes indicated her displeasure accurately enough.

“I…am worried about her. The Chancellor of Niflheim is chasing her, I just know it.” He said, trying to quickly come up with a viable excuse. He knew _his_ destiny dictated his death, but up until a minute ago he had hardly even considered whether Luna’s was the same. She _had_ been murdered, rather than say, dying of destiny-dictated suicide like him, but what if that was a part of the prophecy too? Gentiana’s anger at being asked would suggest not, but he had to know for certain. What was the point in trying to stop Ardyn’s murder if her destiny ordained it?

“The…Chancellor. The King believes this man to be a threat?” asked Gentiana, though Noctis could tell she’d only avoided saying ‘The Accursed’ by carefully considering his words, indicating she already knew the answer to that question.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I asked. What’s Luna’s destiny?”

Gentiana hesitated before answering.

“The duty of the Oracle will weaken the Lady Lunafreya as each covenant is forged. However, the Oracle will not perish from her destiny.”

Noctis released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He’d been unable to get his hopes too high until he knew for sure, but now he did… This was the confirmation he’d needed. Luna didn’t have to die. Not only that, but he’d also managed to warn Gentiana of Ardyn’s attack indirectly; now she would be watching him more closely. If she wasn’t already. At the very least, if she really cared about Luna as he thought she did, then she might be a bit more active in ensuring she didn’t get unceremoniously stabbed this time.  

“Have the words of the Messenger assuaged the King’s fears?” asked Gentiana.

“Yes. Thank you, Gentiana.” He said.

“Then my duty is done,” she said, and vanished into the night. He’d never actually seen her do it before. It was…distinctly unnerving. Still, it was one more thing that he’d been able to change. He had no way of knowing whether it would be enough, whether _anything_ would be enough, but for now there was still hope, and he felt like he was making progress.

A loud bark sounded behind him.

“Don’t worry Umbra, I haven’t forgotten about you,” he said, laughing slightly. Umbra whined and looked pitifully at him. “Come on, if we run we might get back before dawn!”

The moment he’d said the word ‘run’ Umbra had gone streaking off down the path, and as Noctis began to jog after him, for a moment, while he knew the night was still short, and the dawn would still come, he almost felt like everything was going to be alright. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another chapter! Gentiana, as it turns out, is a really hard character to write dialogue for, and I may or may not have to watch every scene with her in to get a handle on it :/ Still, I was looking forward to writing this chapter, since it's the first one where things are really starting to get moving and Noctis is actually _doing_ stuff rather than wandering around like: new brain, who dis? Okay, he still has no idea what he's doing, but he's _trying_ , and that's the important thing. Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	7. Through the Darkness

That feeling had not lasted long, however, as almost immediately upon exiting the Disc he and Umbra were ambushed by a multitude of daemons, apparently having only been kept at bay by Gentiana’s presence. The daemons were relentless in their attacks, almost as though they were angry at having missed the earlier opportunity to try and maul him. Unfortunately, Noctis quickly discovered that while Umbra was many things, an attack dog he was not, spending most of the battles dodging and weaving between teeth and claws rather than helping. What was worse still was that these daemons were clearly no ordinary daemons, almost equalling those he was pursued by in his nightmares, and much, much stronger than the ones he’d been fighting for the past few days. Their sudden gain in strength worried him, particularly since it wasn’t supposed to happen for a while. This was the first thing other than himself that he’d noticed to be different this time around.

As he ducked and weaved and slashed, he thought about what may have caused this change; in part, because he needed to find out as soon as possible, and in part, so he could take his mind off the pain as the daemons began to get more and more hits on him. He tried strenuously not to think about how dying here wouldn’t lead to him waking in bed the next morning—it would mean _actually_ dying, and tried to think even less about how he hadn’t yet been able to survive any of his nightmares until he woke.

‘So, where did they come from?’ he thought, just managing to duck as the blades of a Ronin came within mere inches of decapitating him.

He thought it unlikely that the Empire had just suddenly decided to release newer, more powerful daemons into the world purely in the spirit of chaos. Unfortunately, Noctis was fairly sure he knew of one person who would do exactly that if they knew it would cause him pain and misery. But it still seemed early for that. Well, yes, there _had_ been that attempted murder, but Ardyn wouldn’t act so quickly, and, more to the point, he wouldn’t act so _indirectly_ , would he? At the very least he’d want credit for causing this, and so far there had (mercifully) been no sign of him, so as far as Noctis was concerned he wasn’t involved with this.

His train of thought was violently cut off as what must have been the eighth Reaper he’d faced managed to land two devastating slices, once across his arm and another cutting his legs out from under him, slicing straight through flesh and into bone. Noctis screamed as he felt it lodge in his leg. He barely had to time dislodge it and frantically break several potions over the injuries as he rolled out of the way of still more slices. He began to recognise the signs of the potion’s effects getting weaker, the gashes re-sealed but he felt strangely numb and disjointed, as though his limbs weren’t properly attached. He couldn’t afford to do this for much longer.

The moment he saw an opening in the endless dodging and blocking, he threw his sword and warped as far away from the swarming mass of daemons as possible, before breaking out into a sprint, Umbra swift on his heels. He’d almost forgotten the dog was still there. Fortunately, whatever power he had to re-energise Noctis was still fully functional, so he found himself sprinting as fast as he could in the direction of Lestallum, all while fervently ignoring the screeching noises all around him. He tried to pick up his thoughts where he’d left off…where had these abnormally strong daemons come from? Apparently having his life in jeopardy helped him think because his next idea was much more likely. What if, much like the refugees soon to be pouring into Lestallum, the daemons attacking Insomnia had also begun to disperse over to Cleigne—possibly because they sensed easy prey along the roads. That would at least explain why they were so much stronger than all the other daemons he’d faced so far. And it’s not like he’d have noticed the first time around either, Ignis having quite forcefully kept them all indoors after dark for several weeks after the fall of Insomnia, by which time the other daemons had begun to get stronger as the Starscourge spread.

This time his thoughts were interrupted by his own carelessness as he tripped and fell hard onto the ground, flinging his arms out to catch himself and feeling shockwaves of pain go through them as he landed. Those potions had definitely begun to wear off. Unfortunately his misery didn’t end there, as quite suddenly he heard the awful shriek that signified the arrival of still more daemons. It was different this time though, deafening, coming from all directions, and so loud he found himself clutching his head and covering his ears in an attempt to block out the terrible noise. Then he quite suddenly felt himself…rising? He opened his eyes to find himself now on top of something very large and very red. By the Six. Just as he thought his situation couldn’t possibly get any worse; he was now sitting on top of a Red Giant with potions that were barely working, hardly any energy and Lestallum still several miles away. This was going to be a fucking nightmare.

The only bright spot in the literal and metaphorical darkness was Umbra, who, at that moment, began to bark up at him and race around the Red Giant in a state of extreme agitation. Noctis didn’t know whether he was doing it out of concern or as a gesture of encouragement, but whatever it was, he was quickly snapped out of his dream-like state and immediately took action. Said action was to jam his largest sword directly into the space between the Giant’s neck and shoulder, then jump to the ground before it could swat at him. His legs felt the impact, but he was just glad to be temporarily out of arms reach as the Giant pulled at the sword in its neck like it was an annoying insect. Unfortunately, this temporary respite did not last long, as it quickly realised what had happened, and more importantly, what had caused its injury. It bellowed at him, nearly deafening him for the second time that night before raising a fist and bringing down right where he was standing just a few seconds before. He still had just about enough energy to warp, thank goodness.

He nimbly dodged around the Giant’s feet and got behind them, slashing wildly at them with his daggers and jumping out of the way as it staggered backwards. As it fell to its knees, Noctis began to rush towards it, only to realise exactly how much of a mistake this idea was as the Giant’s hand reached out and grabbed him. He found himself being lifted high into the air, then an immense pressure around his ribs. He’d have screamed if he’d had any air left in his lungs. He had just enough sense left to summon a sword and stab down with it, embedding it deeply in the Giant’s hand. This caused it to growl in pain and fling him headlong through the air. He had just enough time to realise he was free-falling before hitting the ground on his back. Pain shot up his spine as the skin was scraped off, and he quickly came to a halt in the grass.

He weakly pulled another potion from his Armiger as he got back to his feet, now feeling the odd, numbing sensation all along his torso. This was the last thing he needed, but thankfully the combination of his sword in its neck and slashes to its feet appeared to have weakened the Giant, as it was still on its knees. Noctis approached more cautiously this time, carefully getting as close as he dared before smashing its arms with his sword, causing it to leave its torso exposed. This was just what Noctis needed, and he plunged his blade deep into the creature’s chest. It groaned as it sank into a puddle of daemonic miasma, and Umbra came barking up to him, running around him in excited circles.

“I don’t know why you’re so excited, I don’t seem to remember _you_ helping,” said Noctis, his voice trembling as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

Umbra gave an affected whine before running off in the direction of Lestallum again. No rest for the wicked. He ran after him, and knew instinctively that the moment Umbra left he was going to have a very hard time not completely collapsing. It was his own fault though, he reasoned, after all, he had followed Umbra all the way out there. That didn’t make his injuries any less painful though.

By the time they reached Lestallum, dawn had broken almost an hour before and Noctis was starting to fervently wish that he was dead. They’d run into more daemons on the way back, but they were still the relatively weak beings he’d been dealing with up until that night. As he stumbled into the main square and looked around for someone selling potions so that he didn’t _actually_ die on the spot, he suddenly felt an odd pressure at the front of his skull, like something had changed suddenly, and he couldn’t quite work out what it was. After buying about forty potions and drinking ten on the spot, much to the seller’s distress, he realised what it was. Umbra had vanished. Fatigue wasn’t quite crushing him into the ground just yet, but he suspected the sudden headache was only the beginning of what was going to be quite an ordeal. He tried his best to put this thought to the back of his mind as he resolved to head for the Leville as quickly as possible, when, suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

“Hey, Noct! Is that you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter is completed! This one is a bit action-filled for once, and I admit I was debating whether or not to leave it in, but I think it's important to contextualise what Noctis is both thinking and feeling in the next chapter, which, let me tell you, has been one monster to write. That aside, bonus points to whoever can guess the identity of the mysterious stranger calling out to Noct! I want to see how obvious it is at this point in the story. In any case, thank you to everyone still reading, let me know if you liked it, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	8. The Arrival of Iris

Behind him stood Iris, who, going by the car parked nearby and the serious-looking member of the Crownsguard sitting in it, had just arrived from Insomnia.

“Iris! You’re okay?” he said, trying to act appropriately surprised and relieved.

He tried to push down the sinking feeling that accompanied the sight of her. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy to see her, he was, but her presence meant that he’d have to conceal his pain for even longer, and he was already thoroughly exhausted from his night-time excursion.

“Yeah, I made it out okay. So did Jared and Talcott, they’re in another car, just a few minutes behind us. But what happened to you Noct? You look like someone dragged you through a hedge backwards!” she said, bouncing towards him and prodding him in the arm.

“H-Hey!” he spluttered, backing away slightly. “I’m fine! Just…tired, I guess?” he said, trying to hide the fact that his eyes were watering just from being prodded in the area that had been so recently healed.

Iris snorted at this, a trait she’d apparently inherited from her brother.

“You don’t get your clothes all messed up from being tired, silly,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“W-Wait, you can see them?” he said, then immediately wished he hadn’t.

“Uh…yeah?” she said, giving him roughly the same look Ignis gave him after the Ardyn incident, though with a lot less sympathy. “Guess you really _are_ tired,” she mumbled, more to her herself than at him.

“No, listen, it’s just—it’s really hard to explain, okay, but can you tell me what they look like?”  he said, fervently hoping Iris would just chalk it up to exhaustion and _not_ mention it to her brother when they met up.

“Are you sure you’re just tired Noct? ‘Cause you sound pretty out of it,” she said, peering at him suspiciously.

“Iris, please, just humour me for a second, okay?”

“ _O-kay_ , they just look…normal, I guess? Like what you usually wear? But, uh, pretty torn up. Like someone’s been beating you up or something. Though actually now you mention it I’m getting kind of a headache looking at you. Might just be a migraine or something though. Plus you just look…really bad, like seriously, get some sleep.”

“ _Thanks_ ,” he muttered.

“Hey, you asked for it,” she retorted, rocking back on her feet. “So, where are the others? I’d of thought Gladdy would be with you at least,” she said, looking around the square. Though the tone of her voice was still light-hearted, there was a slight edge to it that told him she was still worried about her brother.

“He’s probably still back at the hotel with the others. We can head over there to meet him if you like?” he said, motioning down the street where the Leville was situated. Iris’s face lit up as he said this; she was clearly relieved to hear that Gladio was still safe.

“Yeah, come on, let’s go!” she said, grabbing him by the arm and starting pull him down the street.

“Ow! Iris!” he winced.

“Oh, sorry! Have you hurt your arm or something?”

“No more than everywhere else,” he muttered, massaging the recently resealed flesh.

“I knew it! You were in a fight or something, right?” she gushed, hopping on the spot in excitement.

“Nope. No fight. Not now, not ever.”

“Oooh, I get it, you don’t want Gladdy to know about it right? It’s okay Noct, your secret’s safe with me!”

“Uh, yeah…thanks,” he said, figuring it was probably best to let the matter slide so long as she didn’t say anything about it to the others.

“Still, if you really don’t want them to know you should probably get changed or something. Your clothes are pretty messed up,” said Iris, looking pointedly at his cloak…or jacket, from her point of view.

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” he said, quickly looking around for a place he could change before they reached the hotel. “Ah, there’s a restaurant just over there. You mind ordering something so I can go into the toilets and get changed?”

“Sure. I’m starving anyway,” she said, before bouncing over to the counter.

He quickly ducked into the toilets, which were mercifully quite pleasant, and swiftly removed his suit and cloak, ignoring his muscles screaming in protest at being bent in such a way after all the strain they’d just been put under. He decided to wear his usual attire instead, which, if Iris was accurate in her description, shouldn’t arouse too much suspicion in the others. He then stored the ruined clothing in the Armiger until such a time when he could repair it, before re-emerging to see Iris waiting for him outside, now with a large ice cream.

“You’re having _ice cream_ for breakfast?” he asked, a little bewildered.

“Hey, it’s super hot out here, besides it’s not like you can talk, Mr No-Vegetables,” she said.

“True,” he sighed, before starting to head back to the hotel again.

“Why do you have two pairs of the same outfit anyway? That seems kind of weird if you ask me,” she said, taking a bite out of her ice cream, causing Noctis to almost do a double take. Who _bites_ ice cream?

“Well, fortunately, I didn’t ask you,” he said, quickly recovering himself and smirking.

“Bully,” muttered Iris. “You just like being all cool and mysterious.”

“I-I do not!” stuttered Noctis, but it was too late.

“Yeah you do, that’s why you were standing in the square and staring off into the distance, all mysterious-like. Besides, why won’t you answer any of my questions? You’re just being _enigmatic_ and stuff deliberately so everyone thinks you’re cool,” she said, taking more chunks out of her ice cream.

Well, if that wasn’t a crushing blow to his psyche. 

“I’m not— Actually, you know what? Never mind,” he said, realising that this was as good an excuse as any not to reveal any more information. Well, to Iris anyway. It wasn’t necessarily what _he_ would have come up with, but he was just going to ignore that.

“See, you’re doing again!”

“I just…don’t want to talk about it, okay?” he said, looking pointedly at the ground.

“Oh, right. I get it. Sorry,” she said, and when Noctis glanced up he saw her looking guiltily at the floor. Dammit, he said the wrong thing, _again_.

“No, it’s fine, I’m just…not quite over it, you know,” he said, trying desperately to reassure her. The last thing he needed was one more person treading on glass around him. “Augh, I haven’t even asked how _you_ are yet. Sorry, I guess…your dad…since my dad’s gone…”

“Hah, yeah,” she sighed. “You know, I hadn’t even thought about it too much until you brought it up. I guess I knew, but, didn’t? At the same time? Like, I knew that if the King was dead then my dad probably died protecting him, but…it just didn’t sink in…until now,” she said, and Noctis could see tears forming in her eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, somewhat awkwardly putting his hand on her shoulder. “Well, it’s not—nothing is—but at least you still have _something_ , right? Gladio’s still okay, and you said Talcott and Jared are alright as well. We’re still here for you, you know? You’re not alone.”

It almost felt familiar, him comforting Iris, calming her down like this, so when she threw her arms around him and burst into a flood of tears he was reasonably sure he hadn’t said the wrong thing again. It was still a little awkward, what with Iris’s hands being sticky from the ice cream, and it being too hot to be quite comfortable, and his body still aching from daemons, and his muscles protesting at being squeezed again. But it was the good kind of awkward, the kind that meant that everything was real, even if it wasn’t exactly perfect. It felt almost like…family.

They stayed a while like that, and Noctis realised he hadn’t been in such a dissimilar position just a few hours ago, with Ignis, and realised he was probably still very worried about where he’d gone. He wasn’t going to rush Iris though, and after a few minutes she’d calmed down and withdrew, sniffing.

“Thanks, Noct,” she said, smiling. “I don’t suppose you have any tissues on you?”

“Ah, let me see…” he said, rummaging through his Armiger. “Will these do the trick?” He asked, tossing her a packet he’d stolen from the Mother of Pearl, having anticipated he might not be done crying that day. Fortunately he’d proven to be incorrect, though they had come in handy after all.

“Yeah, thanks,” she said wiping her eyes. “Sorry, I’ve ruined your second jacket haven’t I?”

It was true that his jacket was now rather sticky, and wet where Iris had cried on it, but not exactly ruined.

“Ah, it’s nothing that Ignis won’t be able to wash out. Actually, I bet he’s wondering where I am.”

“Oh, yeah, we were going to the hotel, right?”

“Yep, let’s get moving.”

They walked on in silence, Iris busy eating the remains her ice cream, Noctis preoccupied with his own thoughts; specifically how he was going to explain his all-night absence. Now that he thought about it, there was no particular reason he couldn’t tell them the truth, or at least, some of the truth. He refused to admit to them he’d followed Umbra at least thirty miles across difficult country for no real reason other than boredom. He also refused to admit he’d spent most of the night fighting a ridiculous number of daemons and had used up almost all the potions he had in stock in the process.

Unfortunately, while he refused to _admit_ it, that didn’t necessarily mean that they wouldn’t notice. He was still beyond exhausted from fighting daemons for almost nine hours consecutively, and no amount of clothing changes would solve that. He was just about able to keep putting one foot in front of the other, but anything more intense than that was beyond him. At least he’d managed to resupply before Iris found him in the square, so they probably wouldn’t notice. Or at least, he _hoped_ they wouldn’t. He _could_ tell them about Gentiana though, and that would be a perfectly legitimate excuse for heading over to Titan the moment the headaches began. What it probably _wouldn’t_ be a legitimate excuse for was staying out all night. This was going to be a long day.

They soon reached the Leville, though Noctis thought it a little odd he hadn’t seen any of the others yet. It was almost nine o’clock, which, while definitely early for him, was pretty late for them. Iris had finished her ice cream by this point and was now staring up at the hotel in a calculating way.

“So, this is where you’re staying, huh?” she said, walking up to the windows to peer inside.

“Hey we can just…go in you know. You don’t have to look through the windows.”

“Shh, I want to know if Gladdy’s in there before I go in,” she whispered, face pressed up against the glass. “Looks like it’s clear. Let’s go!”

“Why don’t you want him to see you?” asked Noctis, wondering if Iris was actually being confusing or if his brain was just behind again.

“I want to surprise him obviously!” she said, and almost reached out to grab his arm again before remembering and withdrawing her hand. “Right, almost forgot, sorry about that.”

This somewhat relieved Noctis. If she could only just remember his injuries after about ten minutes of telling her then there was little chance she’d pass on what she’d seen to the others. Not that that was going to do his poor arm any favours.

They crept into the lobby of the hotel in what Noctis thought was probably the most suspicious manner possible for people entering a hotel, and proceeded to look around for any sign of his friends, Gladio in particular. No such luck. They clearly weren’t in the lobby at any rate. Well, there was one easy way to remedy that. He walked over to the reception desk.

“Ah, excuse me sir, have you possibly seen three men that booked into this hotel last night?” asked Noctis, putting on his ‘polite customer’ voice. “One of them had an eagle tattoo, if that helps.”

“Oh, hello sir. Might you be the fourth person they booked for?” asked the receptionist.

“Ah, yeah, Noctis.”

“I gave the room key to a Mr Scientia. I don’t believe I’ve seen them leave the hotel yet sir.”

So, they were definitely still inside. Well that was something at least.

“Thanks, you’ve been a great help,” he said, smiling politely.

“A pleasure to be of service, sir.”

He walked back over to Iris who’d been watching nervously from the sofa.

“Well, what did he say?” she asked, eagerly.

 “Says they haven’t left the hotel yet,” he said, taking another cursory glance around the lobby. “They might still be in their room, or possibly eating breakfast, I know this place has a restaurant.”

“Let’s go look for them there then!” said Iris, already heading towards the nearest door.

“Uh, Iris? The sign says the restaurant’s that way,” he said, pointing to the door across the room, roughly the opposite direction of where Iris had been headed.

“Right, I knew that,” she said, turning and heading towards it without missing a beat. It was lucky the hotel had signs, otherwise he’d have had to do still more awkward explaining. Small mercies.

The restaurant was bustling when they entered, it _was_ pretty much bang on when most people had breakfast after all. In fact, that was why they almost never ate in the Leville’s restaurant, despite the food there not being too bad all things considered. Iris was the first to spot them, and Noctis was notified of this by a shooting pain through his arm. He winced and Iris gasped before mouthing ‘Sorry,’ at him. She then proceeded to weave through the other diners, bending down slightly like a spy out of a cartoon, trying to avoid being spotted. Noctis followed her, similarly trying and failing not to be noticed. Ignis, Gladio and Prompto had chosen a table next to the window, overlooking the street. Fortunately they seemed to be pretty deeply engrossed in conversation, so in spite of his and Iris’s monumental failure at trying to sneak up on them, they did not notice their arrival. For a moment Noctis could just about hear what they were talking about, and though he didn’t catch his name, he could tell immediately that they were talking about him. Which wasn’t actually that surprising since for all they knew he’d gone missing. His eavesdropping was interrupted, however, when Iris decided to announce their presence.

“Gladdy!” she yelled, springing up from her crouch and running up to him.

“Iris? You’re alright?” Gladio marvelled, his relief at seeing his sister written all over his face.

“I’m fine! Jared and Talcott both got out okay too,” she said, pulling Gladio into a hug.

“Well that’s a relief,” he said, exhaling deeply as Iris let go of him again.

“And guess who else is fine!” exclaimed Iris, throwing her arms up in Noctis’s direction.

“Hi,” he said, not really knowing what else to say. He felt a sinking feeling as he saw that his presence was met with decidedly mixed emotions. He knew it was his own fault, but they couldn’t at least pretend to be happy to see him?

“Noctis,” said Ignis, clearly trying to decide whether to be angry or relieved, and deciding to settle on something in between with exasperated concern.

“Yeah, didn’t collapse in the street. Sorry about that,” he said, trying and mostly failing to lighten the mood. Iris apparently noticed this and tried to help matters along.

"He’s the one who found me this morning. I saw him wandering around the main square like a confused garula and he took me to you guys,” she said.

“Confused garula?” he asked, slightly offended.

“Yeah, you looked like you were totally out of it, like you were super tired or something,” she said, smirking at him.

“I _am_ tired, I’ve been up all night,” he retorted cattily, trying to ignore the symptoms of his exertions resurfacing with a vengeance as he was forced to stand still for an extended period of time.

It was as though having a brief moment of rest had allowed his body to catch up with what just happened to him. The initial dull pain in his head he’d felt upon Umbra leaving now spread through his entire skull, growing slowly in intensity as it did. He could feel a sharp, stabbing sensation in the areas where he’d had his skin ripped open, along his arms, legs and back. His legs were beginning to shake under him as they attempted to keep supporting his weight, causing him to feel roughly as though he was about to collapse. Clearly whatever adrenaline-induced strength had carried him to the hotel was rapidly wearing off.

“Yeah, care to explain why exactly that _was_ Noct?” asked Gladio, in a tone that only missed being accusatory by the slight edge to it.

“Listen, I’ll explain everything later, I just need to lie down first,” he said, trying to get out of the restaurant before he collapsed right then and there.

“Lie down? If you think you’re getting away with _that_ as an excuse—”

“—Gladio, I think it’s best if we trust Noct’s judgement on this occasion. He _does_ owe us an explanation,” said Ignis, looking pointedly at him, “but he’s clearly in no state to give one at the moment.”

“Iggy…”

“Here are the keys to the room Noct—I trust you’ll be able to get there yourself?” said Ignis, ignoring Gladio and turning to him, handing him a small key card.

“Yeah, thanks Ignis,” he said, taking it and walking out of the restaurant, feeling Gladio’s gaze sharply on his back. He immediately went to the elevator, doubting his ability to climb the stairs in his current condition. He glanced at the key card before pressing the button for the second floor. He was heading for Room 243. There was no one else in the elevator, which was initially a relief—until it started moving. He immediately felt intensely light-headed, and the ghosts of the wounds on his back flared up violently as he recalled the Red Giant rising under him. The world was spinning in front of him, and as the elevator came to a stop he just about managed to stumble out, clutching at the nearby bannisters to steady himself. His legs had begun shaking again, and he knew he had to get to the room as soon as possible.

He scanned the numbers above the doors, willing the world to come back into focus as he leaned on the walls, trying to work out which room was the right one. As he came to the end of the hallway, he thought he could just about make out the correct number above the door just before the maintenance stairwell. His hands were now trembling as well as his legs, and he fumbled with the key card as he attempted to enter the room. His first two attempts were met with a red light and an uncomfortably loud buzzer, but mercifully his third attempt was successful and he staggered into the room, only just able to remain upright. The world had now lapsed into a foggy, impenetrable mass of colours and vague shapes, and he could already hear a familiar ringing. Damnit, he only needed to move a bit further, just reach the bed… But it wasn’t enough. As he attempted to move from the wall he was clinging to, his vision was obscured entirely by darkness and he felt himself falling forwards…and then, nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, it's Iris! This chapter was certainly, um, _interesting_ to write, since both Iris and Noctis are going through pretty difficult stuff and both having some serious trouble expressing it to each other. Though Noct is definitely being a lot more...deliberate, shall we say, about avoiding what's troubling him. How successful he is in playing it off is another matter entirely. Also, some of you may notice that it takes Noctis and Iris some time to get around Lestallum: this is mainly because Lestallum is _tiny_ in the main game, and I've always assumed it was considerably bigger than actually depicted. Especially considering it's supposed to be the main city in Cleigne!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, thank you to everyone still reading, and let me know if you liked it!


	9. The Sound of Something Breaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello potential readers! This is your pre-warning that things get pretty intense this chapter, and by 'intense' I mean possibly triggery, so I've changed the tags to reflect this. There _is_ self harm in this chapter. It's not graphic but I'm warning you up here before you scroll down, that it, and the thought process leading up to it, is there. So if you feel the need to skip for your comfort, it begins with the paragraph starting 'He felt the anger flowing back...' and ends with the paragraph beginning 'He needed to take more concrete measures...'. Now without further ado, I hope you enjoy the chapter, should you choose to read it, and stay safe!

Lights flickered behind his eyelids as Noctis found himself returning to consciousness. It was cold, and he could feel the rough texture of stones on his arms. He was lying on the ground somewhere, probably outside; going by the chill and the rocky surface beneath him. He slowly opened his eyes and tried to work out where exactly he was. For a moment all he could see was the dark of the night sky, but when he pulled himself upright, a familiar street lay before him. He was in Lestallum, and it appeared to be almost midnight. How had he gotten there? The last thing he remembered was collapsing in his hotel room…

He slowly got to his feet, taking care not to aggravate his injuries, and looked at the scene before him. Something was wrong somehow. Now he looked more closely at the details of the area around him, certain things seemed…off. All of the windows on the street had been boarded up, and not a single light lit up the insides of the shops or the houses above them. Had there been some kind of incident while he was asleep? Was that why he’d woken in the street?

He tried walking up the street to where he remembered the Leville being, but soon ran into some sort of blockade. Furniture had been stacked up in the street like a makeshift barrier, cutting off the path to the hotel. Noctis noticed that the light of the streetlamps stopped just at the edge of the blockade—behind it was nothing but darkness. He couldn’t even see the buildings. The air seemed strangely thick, and he could only see a few meters into the dark. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but something about the pervasive gloom felt…sinister, somehow. Like it was watching him. Waiting. He shuddered to himself and continued back up the street, deciding that whoever had blockaded the street had likely done it for a good reason.

Now he thought about it, the lights on the street he was walking up didn’t seem to be faring too well either. Their dull yellow glow gave the occasional flicker, leaving parts of the street in temporary darkness. He found himself hoping there were no daemons nearby. As he continued walking with no destination in particular in mind, he noticed that dim flickering of the lights was becoming steadily more frequent and quickened his pace, eager to reach an area where the light was more…constant.

As he walked, he couldn’t help but notice that the city seemed oddly empty. It wasn’t unusual for only a few people to be up and about at such a late hour in Lestallum; it was no Insomnia after all. But still, he’d expected to see _some_ people. So far, the streets had been totally devoid of any sign of human life, even the shops he remembered being open into ridiculous hours of the night were closed. His quest for steady light was taking him up to the power plant, but the closer he got, the more uneasy he became. Why was everywhere so empty? Where were all the people? He broke out into a jog. The sooner he found someone else, the better.

Eventually he could see the power plant looming in the distance, all he had to do was turn the corner and he’d be on the street leading right up to it. His train of thought came to a stuttering halt however, when he actually _saw_ the street leading up to the power plant. Lining almost every inch of the street were graves. They’d looked almost like squat, white plants that had grown up under the concrete, shattering the pavement as they erupted through it. Whatever graveyard Lestallum had once had was clearly full to capacity, and instead the mourners had torn up the street to try and find space for all of the tombstones. There didn’t even seem to be bodies beneath them; there wasn’t nearly enough space for that—they must have served merely as reminders of the fallen. There were so many, it was difficult to see the floor between them, and they carried on, all the way back to the main square. A field of silent stone. How had so many people died? Noctis had a creeping suspicion he knew, but elected to ignore it as he headed for by far the most impressive tombstone, in the centre of the square in front of the power plant. It was around twice the height of him, and as Noctis drew closer, picking his way through the gravestones, he was able to make out the name engraved on it.

‘In loving memory of Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. May her light shine ever through the darkness.’

That definitely wasn’t right. Why was there a memorial in Lestallum? She wasn’t even dead yet. But as he glanced around at the other graves, other names caught his eye. ‘Jared Hester’, ‘Nyx Ulric’, ‘Clarus Amicitia’…the list went on and on. All the people who’d died to his inexperience and naivety. He knew where he was. He’d been trying to deny it to himself, to retain some grasp of the fact that he was _back_ and he could _change_ things. But it was difficult when his every dream sent him back to the world of ruin he’d left behind. This was Lestallum, after ten years of darkness had ravaged it. That was why no one was in the streets, why the windows were boarded up, why there had been a blockade to fend off the darkness. And the lights kept flickering. Their power was running out. How much time did they have left until the darkness swallowed them whole? Was _anyone_ left alive when he sacrificed himself? Or had it truly been for nothing?

_Nothing, nothing, nothing…_

The words echoed in his mind, building as the idea behind them grew stronger and stronger. It was all for nothing. He looked up at the memorial to Luna again, his vision now blurred by tears. All for nothing.

But no. That wasn’t true. Hadn’t his friends still been alive when he went to face Ardyn one last time? They’d followed him all the way to the end, even though it cost them so greatly. With them, hope followed. Wasn’t there at least a chance they were all okay? Hadn’t his death ended the Starscourge? Surely that had to count for something?

But as he looked at the memorial, he suddenly noticed something. Something he hadn’t seen before. He found himself unconsciously reaching out for the new name now carved there—‘Gladiolus Amicitia’. But why? What did that even mean? It wasn’t…it _couldn’t be_ …

But now he looked closer there was another name next to his.

‘Iris Amicitia’

Why was this happening? They were alive. He _knew_ they were alive. He’d _seen_ them.

‘Ignis Scientia’

 No.

‘Prompto Argentum’

 _No_. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be! This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. The Starscourge was over, he’d _died_ for it to be over. So why were they…?

Before he could get any further, a splintering pain exploded in his forehead, and he cried out as he fell to his knees. He put his hands to his head, clawing desperately at his hair, the pain so severe he had no idea what to do other than cry out in agony. It was like someone had ignited a firecracker in his skull, and he felt an intense, pulsing pressure; as though it were trying to break through the bone and escape into the night air. He opened his eyes to try and get his bearings, get help, somehow, but found his vision marred by black and white patches of light. The world behind them was now spinning in a way that was becoming almost familiar to him, and he stopped fighting, allowing himself to slip back into unconsciousness; back to reality. If that even meant anything anymore.

As he awoke, the first thing he noticed was that he was no longer on the floor. Someone had moved him onto the bed while he was unconscious. Which meant that someone had found him. Which, since this was their hotel room, meant one of his _friends_ had found him. Which meant that they knew that he’d been injured, and as a result were likely very, _very_ angry with him. Why did everything have to be so difficult?  

The second thing he noticed, as he pulled himself upright, was that passing out had not helped his injuries even slightly, and he could still feel a deep, stabbing pain whenever he moved one of his recently healed muscles. At least they’d _stayed_ healed though. He knew that the danger of overusing potions was that their effects tended to subside; to the point that previously healed wounds would reopen once the potion wore off. Thankfully he seemed to have avoided reaching that point. Knowing that didn’t make moving any easier though.

He pushed himself wearily off the bed and tried to look around to get a better sense of his surroundings. Other than having been moved onto the bed, nothing in the room seemed to be particularly out of place, with little having changed since he last remembered staying there. What was he going to do now though? His friends, and by friends he mostly meant Gladio, were not going to be pleased about his having collapsed before even having reached the bed. He’d hoped to have given the impression of just being tired when he met them in the restaurant and dealt with the situation from there. But now they’d definitely know something was wrong. Still, it wasn’t like it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done in the days preceding the fall of Insomnia. Sure, he hadn’t actually _collapsed_ as a result of any of those ventures, but still, there was a precedent for this. But how was he going to explain why?

That question was neatly answered as the door opened and Prompto stepped in, took one look at him sitting on the side of the bed, and gave a stricken cry.

“H-hey, what’s wrong?” asked Noctis. He couldn’t look _that_ bad, could he?

“Y-you’re awake!” said Prompto, more stunned than seemed entirely appropriate for the situation.

“Um…yeah?” he said, not completely sure how to react.

The decision was pretty quickly taken from him as Prompto rushed over and pulled him into a hug. He tried not to wince at the contact and make him feel worse about the situation, but it really _did_ hurt. Prompto was holding him very tightly, enough that he’d have been fairly uncomfortable even if his entire body _wasn’t_ sore beyond adequate description. He felt Prompto shaking somewhat as he held him, as though trying to hold back tears. Noctis thought about the look on his face as he’d entered the room. He’d looked so shocked, and, more than that, just _exhausted_. It was clear that he’d had hardly any sleep that night. ‘And it’s your fault,’ a voice whispered in the back of his head.  He tried to push the thought out of his mind, to concentrate on comforting Prompto as best he could, but it lingered, waiting. He could still feel him trembling in his arms. He needed to say something: to apologise for worrying him at the very least.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he felt Prompto’s arms tighten around him. He bit back a wince. “For leaving all of you.”

“I know,” said Prompto, so quietly Noctis almost didn’t hear him.

They remained in silence for a moment, before Prompto pulled away, his eyes distinctly more red than they had been.

“Ah, sorry, I have to go tell the others. I promised them I’d get them as soon as you were awake.” Said Prompto, now a little sheepish.

“It’s fine, I don’t feel much like going anywhere yet anyway,” said Noctis, dropping back down onto the bed, and trying fervently not to let the multiple twinges that shot up his body show on his face. Prompto smiled at him, so he guessed he’d been successful, before leaving back through the door.

When he was sure Prompto was gone he allowed himself to flop back onto the bed and curl into a foetal position, trying to take his mind off the aches and pains all over, his guilt at causing his friends such distress and just close his eyes for a minute. Six, he was so _tired_ , why was he so tired? Just as he could feel his thoughts beginning to become more clouded, he heard the door open again. Could Prompto really be back so quickly? He slowly opened his eyes, and as the world came back into focus he saw that it was not Prompto.

“How are you feeling Noct?” asked Ignis, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Noctis pulled himself upright again and sat facing away from Ignis, not quite able to bring himself to face him, to see the disappointment he was sure would be on his face.

“Better than when I passed out?” he murmured, not entirely sure whether he meant for Ignis to hear him.

“Well that’s something, isn’t it?” said Ignis, his voice quiet, as though he was trying not to aggravate him. He felt another twinge of guilt at having made his friends so uneasy. Even Ignis, who’d known him since childhood, was treading on eggshells around him now. But then, hadn’t he always? Everything was such a mess.

“Sorry for...not coming back,” he said, and his voice was trembling.

“I’m sure you had your reasons,” said Ignis, and a long pause followed. How was he supposed to respond to that? ‘Yes, but those reasons were terrible?’, ‘No, I had no idea why I did it?’, he tried to think of something to say, but he just couldn’t come up with anything that would justify his behaviour. Even if he told the truth, that he’d followed Umbra to Gentiana—that still didn’t really constitute to an explanation. It seemed so foolish in hindsight. Besides, it wasn’t like he could deny that he’d been avoiding them—he had, and he knew it. He was so afraid of the same thing happening again, or something even worse, due to his lack of vigilance. He couldn’t stand the idea of them dying because of him. Wouldn’t they try to sacrifice themselves in his stead if they truly knew what was coming? Didn’t everyone? Wasn’t that why he was here in the first place?

Everything seemed to run in circles. When the Marilith attacked (and it seemed so long ago now) people had sacrificed themselves for him. His father had sacrificed his kingdom, Ignis his eyesight— and how many lives were taken in Altissia because of the sacrifices that had to be made to gain the Astrals’ favour? Too many things were sacrificed in his name, and he wasn’t going to let his friends go the same way. They deserved better than that.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

It was Ignis again. He always seemed to drift off when having important conversations with him.

“I’m not sure—” he began, before being cut off by the door being swung open again.

Standing in the doorway was Gladio and behind him, Prompto, who seemed to be shrinking into the wallpaper slightly. He gave Noctis a slightly apologetic look.

“So, you’re really awake huh?” said Gladio, stepping into the room and glancing briefly at Ignis, while Prompto shut the door behind them.

“Sure seems like it,” said Noctis, once again not entirely sure how to react. The look Prompto had given him would seem to imply that Gladio was angry at him, but he’d seen nothing to suggest as much yet. Though now he thought about it, both Prompto and Ignis seemed to be pretty studiously avoiding his gaze, and the atmosphere was oddly…tense.

“Good. You gave us a real fright when we came in to see you all splayed out on the floor.” He said, and Noctis felt another twinge of guilt. “And while we’re on the subject, I think it’s high time you explained what’s going on,” he said, and his voice was sharper this time, an edge to it that Noctis hadn’t quite heard before.

He couldn’t be talking about the time-travel, could he? There was no way he could know… He had to make sure.

“What do you mean?” asked Noctis, trying to project an air of bewilderment.

“What do I _mean?_ ” growled Gladio and Noctis almost flinched, but he took a deep breath and resumed in a calmer manner. “You’ve barely spoken to any of us since we left Insomnia is what I mean. Look, I’ve let you go out hunting daemons all night because I thought you could deal with it, and it would help with whatever...issue you’re having. But this is too much Noct. You can’t expect us to overlook you completely collapsing.”

Noctis knew he was right, and he still felt guilty for allowing them to think he’d gone missing for an extended period of time. But even so, he didn’t want to cause them still more worry by admitting to doing something seemingly nonsensical, and more than that, he didn’t want to be lectured by Gladio about his behaviour, particularly since it seemed like a lacklustre excuse would only upset him further. He just...didn’t want to deal with it. There was no answer that would satisfy them, and he just couldn’t bring himself to tell them what really happened. Why were they even prying so much anyway? It wasn’t like he’d ever been in any actual danger, and he was definitely getting better. Wouldn’t telling them the truth only add to his list of problems?

“Gladio, listen, I’m fine—”

“—Bullshit!” yelled Gladio, finally exploding, shattering the tension that had been building in the room. “You really expect me—expect _us_ to believe that after all the shit you’ve done? I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but it sure as hell isn’t ‘fine’. You stop talking to us, you go out doing stupid bullshit like hunting daemons alone, attacking random strangers and passing out for hours at a time and you expect us to just deal with it? You aren’t the only one who’s been having a hard time. _All_ of us are suffering after what happened to Insomnia. Running head-first into daemon fights isn’t going to bring it back, it’s just going to get you killed, and I’m sick of having to run around taking care of your mess. I’m supposed to protect the future King, not some _idiot_ that can’t even look after himself properly!”

“What the hell do you think I’ve been doing?” snarled Noctis, rising from his seat, now absolutely furious. “You think I don’t _know_ that? You think I don’t know you’ve suffered too? I came here for news about Insomnia, to try and help _you_. _Everything_ I’ve done has been to try and keep _you_ safe! Since when has _that_ been poor leadership?”

“ _We_ are not the ones who need to be kept _safe_ , Noctis!” growled Gladio. “It’s godsdamned job to keep _you_ safe—since you seem to be incapable of doing that yourself. Or are you going to try and tell us you didn’t just collapse from a potion overdose?”

“How dare—”

“—How dare I _what_ , your _Highness_? Tell you the truth? That you’re incapable of leading anyone in the state you’re in? That I could be selling hotdogs on the street and be of more use to the people of Lucis than you are now? I refuse to try and protect someone that wants to just throw his life away!”

“That’s _enough_ Gladio!” hissed Ignis, finally stepping in.

Gladio threw him a look of pure rage before stalking out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The room sat in tense silence for a moment, Ignis still sitting on the edge of the bed, looking angrily at the door, Prompto standing close to the wall, looking for all the world like he wanted nothing more than to sink into it and never come out again. Noctis, for his part, was still standing and glowering at the door, still livid about Gladio’s accusations.

“I’m going to go and try to calm him down,” said Ignis, rising from his seat and walking towards the door. “Prompto, you and Noct stay here and wait for me to come back.”

“Don’t bother,” said Noctis, his voice laced with bitterness.

Ignis clearly wanted to say something in argument, but after struggling for a moment apparently thought better of it.

“…Very well,” he said, before disappearing through the door.

Silence settled over the room once more. Noctis glanced over at Prompto and could see that he was trying to work up the courage to say something, but couldn’t quite spit it out. He’d have intervened, but he was too worked up. His entire body was shaking with adrenaline; he wanted to destroy something, to scream or shout or break things. But he couldn’t. Not with Prompto still there. In the end, Prompto opted to come over and sit next to him rather than say anything, which was a relief. A relief which was swiftly squashed as Prompto began to speak. 

“You shouldn’t listen to him you know. He’s just mad ‘cause he’s worried.” He said, trying to sound cheerful, but mostly just sounding anxious.

Noctis gave a bitter laugh.

“You think so?” he asked, burying his head in his hands.

“Oh come on, you don’t really believe what he said do you?”

“He was right. I’ve been shitty to you guys.” Said Noctis. “I should have told you what I was doing, not left you to wonder all night.”

Prompto sighed to himself but said nothing, and Noctis could feel the already crushing guilt threatening to choke him.

“Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to stay here with me, alright? I know Ignis said to, but if you want to follow him or something…” He said, quietly, now wishing he could just be left alone.

“N-no, it’s fine, really!” said Prompto, not entirely reading his intentions.

“Sorry, I think I just need a minute to…cool off a bit,” he tried, and Prompto seemed to get the message the second time.

“Oh, right. Well, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” He said, attempting to sound cheerful, but Noctis could hear the anxiety in his voice. He resolved to talk to him about it as soon as he was in a civil enough mood to attempt it.  

Prompto shut the door behind him as he left, and as soon as he was gone Noctis could feel all the anger welling up inside him suddenly shift and turn inwards. He couldn’t get Gladio’s voice out of his head. He was right. He _was_ incapable of being a leader, had always been incapable. All his life, that was all he ever seemed to hear. That he was too weak to be King. Too selfish, too sensitive, too quiet, too lazy. And they were right. He hadn’t even been able to hide his already healed injuries from them, causing them still more pain and guilt. What must they have thought, with his personality shifting so suddenly? They’d probably thought he’d lost his mind, and he wasn’t sure if they weren’t too far off the mark anymore. He needed to be better than this.

He felt tears running down his cheeks, and wondered when he’d started crying. He needed to be stronger. He needed them to trust him, to rely on him, and instead he’d just pushed them away with a resentment that wasn’t even justified. Even if it was their job to protect him, it was still his job, as King, to protect them, and he’d done a pretty miserable job of it so far.

Why was he so useless at this?  

His vision was going blurry, and he grabbed several handfuls of tissues out of the tissue box and tried to wipe away his tears, but instead just found himself crying even harder. Why was this happening? Why couldn’t he just keep everything under control?

He couldn’t keep doing this. He _wouldn’t_ keep doing this.

He felt the anger flowing back, this time directed at himself. He was worth nothing if he couldn’t even keep his friends from worrying about him; hadn’t they suffered enough already? And he had hardly suffered at all. He’d already known that his father was going to die. He’d lost nothing in Insomnia he hadn’t lost years ago, but still had the nerve to sulk about it like an angry child! He deserved to suffer, if only for the hurt he’d caused others.

His resealed injuries still ached, and more than that, _itched_. 

He found himself running his nails down his skin, trying to relieve the urge for pain. He scratched and scratched and watched as his skin went white, then red, and a sharp, stinging pain ran all along his forearm. He stopped before he drew blood, and just sat, feeling the burning sensation on his arm.

It took him a minute to process what he’d done, after which he swore silently at himself for being so _stupid_ and quickly swapped his glove to the other arm to hide the redness, hoping his friends wouldn’t comment on it.

He needed to take more concrete measures to avoid upsetting his friends in future. Firstly, he needed to be more careful about his injuries and potion use. He didn’t want to accidentally overdose again. Secondly, hadn’t he wanted to take notes of everything he should and shouldn’t know so that he could refer back to them in order to avoid inappropriate comments? He dug through his bag to look for something notebook-like in description. He quickly found exactly that, and proceeded to take a minute to sketch out a table; one side for things he should know, the other for things he shouldn’t. By the time he’d finished he was a little distressed by how little there was in the ‘should’ column.

He still didn’t feel quite ready to go and face Prompto again—he still felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins, leaving him feeling shaky and disorientated. He found himself idly doodling in the notebook in an attempt to waste time while he thought about what he wanted to say. He wanted to say so many things. Mostly that he was sorry for all of his earlier behaviour, that he didn’t want Prompto to feel bad for not saying anything, that he knew about his anxiety and understood how difficult it was with his parents gone so suddenly...but wait, he still didn’t know about that yet. He quickly added that to the ‘shouldn’t know’ column.

Upon further consideration, he’d need to be very careful no one else found this list...perhaps he’d store it in the Armiger. Just in case.

Placing the notebook into the Armiger he finally felt ready to face Prompto, and so, with a not quite renewed, but certainly much-improved mood, he finally left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that sure was the works wasn't it? This was probably by _far_ the hardest chapter for me to write so far, not least because of how long it is, not to mention the, uh, heightened emotions going on in this chapter. I hope it wasn't too upsetting, and I can promise the next chapter, while perhaps not _fluffy_ , will definitely see a bit of an upswing with regards to poor Noctis's general mood. Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter (in so far as you could, anyway), and let me know how you felt about it!


	10. Reassurances in a Restaurant

Noctis found himself descending the stairs in silence, not exactly enthusiastic about his upcoming meeting, but certainly a lot less panicked than he had been. He tried not to think too hard about what he’d just done and concentrate on the present, but that had never exactly been his strong point. As the foyer came into view, he saw that, while it was not empty of  _ people _ , it  _ was _ empty of Prompto—the person he wanted to find. The receptionist was busy with customers, so he’d have to improvise. 

Where was Prompto most likely to have gone? 

He probably hadn’t followed Noctis’s advice and gone after Ignis and Gladio, and he couldn’t blame him.  _ He _ certainly wouldn’t want to deal with Gladio with the mood he was in. So where could he have gone? He said he’d be downstairs, and other than the foyer, there was only one place he could think of that Prompto was likely to be.

As he walked into the restaurant, he suddenly felt a sudden flash of vertigo, as though the world went spinning for a moment. The feeling quickly passed, but it concerned him. He knew that it would be a while before he fully recovered from his reckless behaviour, but he hadn’t expected to be blindsided so quickly. He tried to distract himself by looking around the restaurant. He noted that it was a lot less busy than it had been when he last entered, and suddenly realised he had no idea what time it was. Or date it was. That was an intimidating thought. Going off how concerned everyone had been upon his awakening, he guessed he must have been out for at least a day. 

There was one bright spot to having entered the restaurant though, and that was that he could see Prompto sitting alone, at the same table he’d been at when he met up with them the first time. He was looking out of the window, deep in thought. If he knew Prompto, and he was pretty sure he did, then he was likely blaming himself for the argument that had happened earlier. An idea which Noctis was determined to put out of his head as soon as possible. He knew there were complexities to it which his words alone wouldn’t ease, but he still had to try. This was his chance to make things better, and his behaviour towards his friends was no longer going to be the exception.

He sat down opposite Prompto, causing him to start a little when he noticed Noctis was there. He didn’t say anything at first, instead looking glumly at the table, so Noctis decided to start the conversation.

“So, how are you coping with all this?” he asked, in as reassuring a manner as he could.

Prompto’s eyes widened a little, as though he were taken off guard by the question.

“I—uh—how do you mean?” he asked, apparently more confused than anything.

“Oh, right, sorry. With Insomnia being gone, I mean.” Noctis said, internally berating himself for not realising that there was another fairly obvious issue Prompto was having to cope with—namely him.

“Oh, right. Fine, I guess?” mumbled Prompto, clearly not up to talking about it yet.

“Look, I’m sorry about sending you away back there, I was just…overwhelmed, I guess. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He said, hoping it would ease Prompto’s worries a little.

“What? Oh, no, that was fine, I know it’s difficult when stuff like that happens. But really, if anyone should be apologising it’s me. I’m the one who went to fetch him.” Prompto said, trying to effect a cheerful attitude, though Noctis could see that he was very nervous.

“What makes you think that?” asked Noctis. “You couldn’t have known he’d go off like that.”

To his surprise, rather than be reassured by this, Prompto instead just looked fixedly at the table, refusing to meet his gaze, and Noctis guessed he was close to tears. It’d been one hell of a week, that much was certain. 

“Yeah,” mumbled Prompto, his voice trembling slightly.

“What’s wrong Prompto?” asked Noctis, sensing there was something deeper behind Prompto’s self-blame than mere anxiety. Prompto shielded his eyes with his hand at this question and took a deep breath before answering.

“Listen, don’t hate me for this or anything, alright?” he said quietly, clearly terrified.

“Prompto, I could never hate you. What’s wrong?” Noctis asked, and Prompto gave a snort, which he elected to ignore.

“Okay, so when we found you yesterday evening, we were all really freaked out, right?” he began, and Noctis nodded, indicating for him to continue and ignoring another stab of guilt. “I was upset, Ignis was upset, but Gladio? He was really angry, and I mean  _ really _ angry. It kind of scared me to be honest. He was shouting about what an idiot you were and stuff, and it was obvious he was just really upset, but it was pretty startling, you know? So yeah, we kind of suspected he’d go off on you when you woke up.”

“I see,” said Noctis, who, while not exactly happy, was certainly not surprised by this development. “It’s still not your fault though, he’s the one who shouted at me. But can I ask you something?”

“Um, sure. What is it?”

“How long was I out, exactly?” he asked tentatively, not sure he’d like the answer.

“Oh, well, we found you yesterday evening, and now it’s about ten, so around twenty-four hours I guess? We were pretty freaked out when you didn’t wake up to begin with.” Prompto said, apparently relieved that they’d moved on to a different topic of conversation.

“Right. Could be worse, I guess.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“So, have you found out anything about your parents yet?” asked Noctis, eager to steer the conversation away from his injuries.

“No, nothing yet. Nothing wrong with hoping though, right?” said Prompto, and his projected cheerfulness was back. “I mean, Iris said that most of the outlying neighbourhoods weren’t too badly hit. Sorry, I guess you didn’t know that, being unconscious and everything.”

“It’s fine, I’m glad you were able to find some news about what happened,” he replied and hesitated before continuing, unsure if his suggestion was going to go down well. “Do you want to find out more?”

“How do you mean?” asked Prompto, and he looked perplexed.

“About the fall, I mean. Which neighbourhoods were hit, whether…” he trailed off, unable to complete the sentence, and Prompto looked reluctant. “We don’t have to, but, all of the rest of us know for sure that what we have is gone. My dad’s definitely not coming back, and neither is Gladio’s. Ignis’s family live right next to the Citadel so there’s no way they got out. It just seems…unfair, to keep you in suspense, I guess.”

Prompto sighed deeply and continued to stare at the table.

“I know you’re right,” he said, barely louder than a whisper. “I guess I just…want this moment, you know? At least if I don’t know, I can still pretend they might still be alive, even if it turns out…”

“I know,” said Noctis, choosing his words with care. “And it is…easier, sometimes. But once we leave Lestallum, I honestly don’t know when we’ll get back—if we’ll  _ ever _ get back. Nothing’s the same anymore Prompto, and if you want to find out, I want to be there too. Who knows, they might still be alive and worried about you as well.”

Prompto smiled at this and sat in a more upright position.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, and for a moment he seemed a little less nervous than he had been. “Do you want to go and look for news or something then?”

“Sure, especially if it means I won’t run into Gladio for a while,” he said, smirking.

“Oh yeah, no kidding. I guess he’s still around here somewhere,” said Prompto, glancing around the restaurant, just to check he wasn’t in earshot. “I found him brooding outside on one the benches when I went to get him, I guess he might have gone back there, but somehow I doubt it.”

“I think we’ll be safe,” said Noctis, rising from his seat, and Prompto quickly followed suit.

“So, where should we go first Noct?” asked Prompto, as they headed out into the lobby.

“I was thinking just look around the city and grab any newspapers we can find. Or radios. Whatever works.” He said, then noticed that Prompto looked a little scandalised. “Then pay for them. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” said Prompto, somewhere between sarcasm and disbelief.

They continued out into the street and Noctis was relieved to see that it had not changed in his absence. There were no graves lining the streets today.

“I guess we should go to the marketplace first, huh?” said Prompto, taking Noctis slightly off-guard, causing him to start. “Oh, are you okay?” asked Prompto, quickly rushing to his side, obviously worried about him collapsing again.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, internally noting that this was probably going to last a while. “You just startled me a bit, that’s all.”

“Ah sorry. Guess I was being too loud…” said Prompto, clearly still feeling a bit guilty.

“No—it’s fine. I’m probably not one-hundred percent just yet,” said Noctis quickly, not wanting to add to Prompto’s distress. “The marketplace sounds like a good place to start.”

“Great! Let’s get going!” said Prompto, who began jogging towards it.

Noctis quickly followed after him, though he noted that for all his reassurances he was beginning to feel shades of his strange lightheadedness again, and decided to keep to a pace that wouldn’t wear him out too quickly. The last thing he needed was to faint again. As he jogged he thought about the situation he was getting himself into. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing. After all, he already knew that Prompto’s parents were dead, and he felt guilty about providing a false hope that they might be alive. But even so, he could hardly have just  _ told _ Prompto that, or dismissed his misery—that would simply have been cruel. No, it was better this way. At least this time he’d have someone with him who could empathise and reassure him, whereas last time he would have been…alone. It was a disconcerting thought, and he tried not to linger on it as the marketplace came into view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's another chapter! As promised, this one's finally a bit of a break for poor Noctis, who's been going through quite a lot recently. This one was actually quite nice to write, particularly since I really like the dynamic between Prompto and Noctis. Not to mention this is the first time they've properly talked one-on-one for...a long time—at least from Noctis's perspective. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and let me know if you liked it!


	11. In Recent News...

The market was as bustling and noisy as ever, and despite it being only ten o’clock there were already plenty of shoppers filling the street. Noctis vividly remembered the first time he’d visited the market, how dazzled he’d been by all the new sights and smells. It was the first time he’d been in a city that wasn’t Insomnia, and he remembered being awed by how… _ normal _ he’d felt. Just another tourist, not the prince of an entire country. He got a distinct sense of déjà vu, but this time it was the good kind. 

As he walked, however, he suddenly felt another wave of faintness and swiftly pulled a water bottle out of his Armiger, taking care to make it look like he’d just been keeping it in his pocket. 

“Pretty cool right?” said Prompto, and Noctis took special care not to look surprised at the sudden voice.

“Yeah, don’t remember seeing anything like this back in Insomnia,” he said, peering at the stalls with their various goods.

“No kidding,” said Prompto, looking over his shoulder at the wares. “It’s so…refreshing, don’t you think?”

“Sure, though I can’t say I see any newspapers around,” said Noctis, spinning on his heel and looking around, then immediately regretting it as another wave of lightheadedness was combined with a sudden nausea. It suddenly occurred to him that being out all night in the cold might have landed him with some sort of illness. As if that wasn’t the last thing he needed.

“You okay there buddy?” asked Prompto, immediately at his side.

“Ah, I’ll be alright. I’ll just—try not to strain myself.” He said.

“Yeah, the last thing you need is to actually end up fainting in the street,” said Prompto, definitely much more cheerful. “Ignis will never let you live it down. Not to mention he’ll, uh, probably behead me if anything happens to you. So try to take it easy, okay?”

“I’m glad that’s your main concern,” said Noctis, not a little sarcastically.

“You know me; I’ve always got your wellbeing at heart Noct.”

Noctis sighed and continued up the street, glancing at each of the stalls for any glimpse of a newspaper. As he did he suddenly recognised one of them—it was the one he’d bought the cactuar statue for Talcott from. He was just thinking of doing the same thing when he saw who was at the counter of the store at that very moment. Said person, upon noticing his stare, turned and greeted them.

“Ah, if it isn’t the young master,” said Jared, bowing slightly. Noctis could see that it hurt him not to address him properly, but knew that he couldn’t give him away in such a large crowd of people. “I’m gratified to see you on your feet again.”

“Ah, thank you, Jared,” said Noctis, a little confused as to how he’d known of his collapse.

“Mr Hester looked after you while you were unconscious,” interjected Prompto, apparently noticing his confusion. “We got him to look at you instead of risking a local doctor.”

“Oh, I suppose I should thank you again then,” said Noctis, now feeling slightly awkward.

“Ah, it is not necessary,” said Jared, smiling paternally at him.

Noctis felt he should really say something, since this might be his last chance at a proper conversation with him. He quickly tried to shake the thought from his mind. He would  _ not _ let Jared die.

“So, what were you buying at that store?” he asked, then cursed himself for being so casual.

“Nothing for you to worry about young master, merely a gift for my grandson. He is ever so fond of these statues you know.” Jared said, bringing a small cactuar model out of his shopping bag to show them.

“Aw, that’s so cute!” said Prompto, leaning in to get a better look at it. Jared chuckled.

“But I shouldn’t be wasting your time, doubtless you have other duties to attend to. Before you go, however, if I might be so presumptuous as to offer you advice…” said Jared, looking pointedly at Noctis. Noctis nodded in an indication that he should continue. “I would recommend that you moderate your use of potions from now on, young master. While the damage from your wounds  _ was _ severe, the effects of an overdose are no laughing matter. Should such a thing happen repeatedly, you risk becoming resistant to their effects altogether. Remember that while potions are convenient, they are no substitute for proper rest and recuperation.”

“Thank you for your advice Jared, I’ll be sure to be more careful in future,” said Noctis, taking a step back to allow him past as he began to walk back to the hotel.

“I am gratified to hear that, sir,” said Jared, smiling at him before disappearing into the crowd.

“Chilling stuff,” said Prompto once Jared was well out of earshot.

“Yeah, I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if potions suddenly stopped working on me,” said Noctis, suppressing a shudder at the memory of disjointed feeling limbs.

“Why’d you end up using so many anyway?” asked Prompto.

“I’ll explain once we’re sat down somewhere, my legs are killing me,” said Noctis, and while that was true he was a bit more preoccupied by his strangely persistent light-headedness.

“Okay, doesn’t look like there are any newspapers here anyway,” said Prompto, already beginning to head away from the marketplace. “Say, would you like to get something to eat? It’s almost lunchtime.”

Noctis thought about it for a moment, then had what amounted to both a sudden realisation and the worst spell of vertigo he’d had yet. He felt Prompto swiftly grab him by the shoulders to prevent him from falling. What he had realised, when Prompto mentioned getting food, was that he hadn’t actually had anything to eat for the better part of three days. No wonder he felt like shit. He was actually fairly amazed he hadn’t noticed it sooner, but his mind had definitely been on other things.

“Hey, hey—what’s going on?” asked Prompto, shaking him slightly.

“Um, yeah we should definitely go and get some food,” said Noctis, now feeling slightly dazed.

“Cool, but totally not what I was asking,” said Prompto, who was frowning concernedly and still grasping him firmly by the shoulders.

“Right, sorry, just realised I haven’t eaten in like three days. Kind of threw me for a moment.”

“What! How? Oh Six you’re not kidding are you? Right, let’s get you over to the nearest food place,” said Prompto, propelling him over to a nearby café. “Seriously though, how could you let that happen?”

“Hey—I’ve spent most of the last three days unconscious. It’s not like I’ve had much time in between for eating.” He retorted.

“Eh, that’s fair, I guess,” said Prompto, glancing around at the establishment they’d just entered. “But you still scared me half to death there buddy! I thought I had another fainting spell on my hands!”

Prompto let go of him and headed towards the counter—apparently his words had reassured him. Noctis began to wish they hadn’t, however, as he felt another wave of nausea pass over him.

“Don’t count your chickens,” muttered Noctis, leaning onto a nearby table.

“So, what do you feel like having?” asked Prompto, who was looking at the menu above the counter, and clearly hadn’t heard him mumbling under his breath.

“Just soup or something,” he said weakly, trying to concentrate on not fainting for the third time in as many days.

“What? Dude, this is a  _ café:  _ they don’t sell  _ soup _ here,” said Prompto incredulously, before finally turning around to see him leaning heavily on a table and probably looking absolutely awful. “Whoa, hey, don’t you dare go fainting on me! Seriously, I don’t think my heart can take it,” he said, grabbing Noctis by the shoulders and pulling him upright. “I’ve got you. Now, do you want to order something they actually  _ have _ or do you need to lie down or something?”

“I should probably eat something. Who knows when I’ll wake up if I fall asleep again?” he said blearily, not really paying much attention to his surroundings and allowing Prompto to support him.

“Good point. Do you want me to get something for you then? No offence, but you don’t exactly seem up to doing it yourself,” asked Prompto, already beginning to manoeuvre him over to a table.

“Yeah, just make sure it’s something small okay? If I have too much I’ll just be sick.”

“Got you. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Noctis leant back in his seat as he watched Prompto jog back over to the counter. Now he could feel an awful ache in his stomach, and whenever he thought about eating, a powerful wave of nausea would wash over him. He tried to distract himself in an effort to remain conscious, looking around at the other diners and taking in the atmosphere of the café they’d found themselves in. It was a light, airy building with a pale green colour theme and sturdy wooden tables. A window was open just above his seat, allowing a cool breeze to wash over him—which was quite a relief in the hot, sticky weather. The other diners had not seemed to have noticed his almost-collapse, or if they did they were largely ignoring it, going about their business as usual. How long would it be until this place was just another boarded up shell, standing witness to thousands of deaths? He tried to put the thought out of his mind, but the dream had been so vivid—so  _ real _ .

His thoughts were just beginning to take a turn towards the unpleasant when Prompto came jogging back over, and Noctis sat up to see what he’d brought.

“Here you go, I thought this shouldn’t be too hard on your stomach,” said Prompto, handing him a yoghurt, before sitting down with his own food—ice cream. Noctis had to suppress a laugh. “Hey what’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I guess ice cream is the new breakfast food of choice in Lestallum,” he said, chuckling to himself at the memory of being vaguely horrified at Iris doing much the same thing.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Prompto in a mockingly offended tone before starting to lick his ice cream—the way it was supposed to be eaten.

“Only that you’re not the only one here with a strange taste in breakfast foods,” he said, smiling.

Prompto looked like he was going to say something in his defence, but quickly cut himself off, before looking around as though distracted. Noctis took the brief moment of silence to get started on his yogurt. As he ate he noticed how uncomfortably foreign it was to have to chew and swallow, and his nausea didn’t make it any easier. He forced the food down though, knowing that if he didn’t have something soon he risked another total collapse, and that was the last thing he needed. As awkward as it was to eat again, he could feel the strength flowing back into his limbs and his thoughts felt a little less cloudy than they had been before. As he ate though, he noticed that Prompto still seemed to be distracted and decided to check he was alright.

“Something wrong?” he asked and Prompto quickly turned back towards him, as though he hadn’t realised he was no longer paying attention. Noctis was intimately familiar with the feeling.

“Oh it just...there’s a radio just over there on that table. You think they might be broadcasting the news?” asked Prompto, nodding at the table next to them.

“Only one way to find out right?” said Noctis, rising from his chair and snatching the radio up, placing it on their table and adjusting the frequency. Apparently starvation had been his main issue, since he felt considerably less like fainting now, and was able to properly concentrate on getting the radio to work. He was aware of Prompto anxiously watching him from across the table, but he remained focused on his task, dialling between the static and eventually a voice began to come into focus.

“And in recent news, the attack on Insomnia has left many citizens refugees, with the primary areas of destruction being centred around its famous Citadel. However, some of its larger outlying neighbourhoods were also badly damaged, including Destinor, Resolveras and Dispellitur.”

Noctis heard Prompto breathe in sharply as the districts were read out. For a moment he was confused— he knew that Prompto hadn’t lived in any of them, but then quickly remembered that Prompto’s parents had almost never been there. Instead they were almost always off working as scientists at the laboratory in the Destinor district. That was probably just as good as confirming their deaths to him, and he quickly turn the radio off as he noticed Prompto getting more distressed. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do but decided he should probably say something.

“I have some tissues if you need them,” he said, now profoundly thankful that his habit of stealing them from hotels was coming in useful.

“Oh! It’s okay. I probably shouldn’t be bothering you with this stuff anyway.” Noctis was going to cut him off and tell him how utterly wrong he was, but Prompto continued, almost as though he was desperate to get everything off his chest. “I mean, you’ve already got so much going on already and it’s not like you actually knew them anyway, they’re not royalty or anything like that—” He cut himself off and Noctis could tell what was left unsaid. ‘And I’m not either, so why should you care?’

“Prompto, I know this is...tough to go through and that nothing is going to make it better,” he began, trying to find the right words. “And you’re right—I didn’t know your parents. But I do know  _ you _ , and I just—I need to know you’ll be okay. And don’t ever think that I don’t care because you’re not ‘noble’ like Ignis and Gladio;  _ all _ of you matter to me. I’d be a pretty shitty King if I didn’t care about my subjects, right?”

In a situation that was starting to become distressingly familiar, Prompto covered his face with his hands and began to cry, and Noctis decided now was an opportune moment to slide his stolen tissues across the table. Prompto grabbed them and began to frantically wipe at his eyes, clearly embarrassed about crying in public. Noctis allowed him to take his time and they sat in silence for a moment as Prompto tried to control his emotions.

“S-sorry Noct, you probably think I’m upset with you or something. I’m not! Just to be clear,” said Prompto, his voice strained as he tried to hold back sobs. Noctis could empathise.

“I know,” he said, his voice as reassuring as he could make it.

“Thanks. For everything.”

Noctis smiled at him, and Prompto took several deep breaths, finally starting to calm down. Noctis still wasn’t sure if he’d necessarily done the best thing, but he was now fairly sure he’d done the ‘right’ thing.

“I guess we should start heading back to the hotel; I’ve lost my appetite somehow,” said Prompto, looking mournfully at his mostly unfinished ice cream.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure there’ll be time for you to get something else later,” said Noctis, rising from his seat, Prompto quickly following after him.

He was relieved that Prompto seemed to have taken his words to heart, and that he’d actually managed to be there when it happened this time. Hopefully he’d be able to process the death of his parents a little more easily now. He tried not to think about how Prompto must have found out the last time, and how, while he didn’t exactly conceal it from them, he didn’t say anything about his parents dying for months after the fact. 

As they walked he noticed that he definitely felt better than he had been, though he knew it would be risky to do something like that again, and he’d probably need more time to recover once they were back at the hotel. Between being utterly wrecked by daemons and worrying about his friends, he hadn’t even thought about eating, which Ignis was doubtless going to reprimand him for when they returned to the hotel. Fortunately it wasn’t too much of a walk, and though Prompto was unusually silent, Noctis doubted he needed to worry. This time, everything was going to be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! This one's probably the closest I'll ever be able to get to actual fluff in this fic, so, you know, enjoy it while it lasts! It was also really nice to write, since I could really get inside Noctis and Prompto's heads for this scene (although neither of them are exactly feeling great, poor things). And, of course, Jared is in there too, though I'll admit he was seriously hard to characterise since he gets all of three lines in the main game, so hopefully he seems alright :/
> 
> In any case, thank you to everyone still reading, let me know if you liked it, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	12. Reconciliation

After they’d been walking for around five minutes in silence, Prompto finally turned to him, and Noctis guessed he wanted to speak.

“So, you never did tell me what happened to you,” he said, giving Noctis a smirk. Noctis gave him a slightly withering look and he quickly backtracked. “Not that you have to! I mean, I understand if it’s upsetting—you were, like, really messed up. At least, that’s what Jared said.”

“It’s fine,” said Noctis, sighing a little to himself. “But I guess it just seems...really dumb in hindsight.”

“Aw, c’mon dude, it can’t have been that bad!” said Prompto, giving him what he probably thought was an encouraging smile, but ended up looking more like a grimace. “I mean, you’re okay now, right?”

“I was literally just unconscious for twenty-four hours.”

“Yeah, but you seem like you’re back to normal now!”

“Back to normal?” he asked, and got the distinct impression he wasn’t going to like whatever Prompto was going to say next.

“Yeah, we were all really worried about you after we got to Hammerhead; it was like you were a completely different person!” said Prompto, still smiling, oblivious to Noctis’s increasing distress as he continued. “You seemed so...old, all of a sudden. And sad! I thought you might be having second thoughts about...you know.”

Noctis knew what Prompto was talking about. He was still anxious about his place as a part of the team and had likely convinced himself that Noctis’s depression was his fault. But he only knew that because Prompto had practically told him as much last time, and there was no way he could be completely sure unless he told him again.

“About what?” he asked.

“About...me being here. As a part of your guard, I mean.”

“You seem to be doing just fine to me,” said Noctis, hoping to reassure him a little. And to distract him from thinking about his change in personality in Hammerhead.

“But I can barely keep up with the rest of you!” said Prompto, anxiety ringing clear in his voice. “I had no idea you were so good at fighting—you always complained about it so much when we were back in the Crown City, so I figured we’d be about equal. But you make it look so easy! Even Ignis and Gladio look bad next to you. But they’re not bad! They’re really good, and I’m—I’m—”

Prompto trailed off and Noctis could see he was close to tears again.

“Hey, hey, Prompto, you’re fine, I promise,” he said, placing a hand on his shoulder in a way not dissimilar to what his father had done to him upon leaving Insomnia for the last time. “I hadn’t even noticed, and to be honest, stuff like this just takes time. Besides I’m not that much better than you guys—especially when I don’t have the rest of you around.”

“You don’t have to say that Noct, I know I’m not as good as you,” said Prompto, placing his hand on Noctis’s wrist as though he were going to move his hand, but he didn’t. He just looked gloomily at the floor and frowned.

“You want to bet?” said Noctis, smiling. “Come on, I bet you won’t think the same when I tell you what happened to me.”

He began to walk again, and Prompto looked puzzled at him before quickly beginning to follow.

“I guess I’d better start after I left you guys to go to the hotel,” he began, and Prompto nodded, clearly eager to find out what’d happened. “I started out by taking a look around the city, trying to get my bearings, you know?”

“Yeah, Lestallum is pretty twisty,” said Prompto, glancing up at the buildings they were walking past.

“Yeah, no kidding,” said Noctis, glancing around to make sure they were still going the right way. “Anyway, after that I went out to the viewing platform, where Umbra found me. He wanted me to follow him, so I did, and he took me to Gentiana.”

“Ah, hold up a second,” said Prompto, confusion evident on his face. “Who’s Gentiana again?

“Right, you haven’t met her yet, have you?” said Noctis, internally cursing himself for forgetting the list. “She’s an Astral Messenger, though she spends most of her time with Luna.”

“An Astral Messenger?”

“Yeah, like a ‘spirit’, I guess,” said Noctis, trying to explain, though he himself only really had a vague idea of what Gentiana truly was. “She hasn’t aged a day since I met her.”

“Whoa, really? That’s pretty bizarre.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of weird. Ignis could probably explain it better than I could,” said Noctis, and he couldn’t help but wonder to himself where Ignis had gotten to. Neither he nor Prompto had seen him since he went after Gladio. Hopefully the two of them were alright. “Anyway, when I got to her she told me that Luna would show up here soon to wake the Archaean.”

“Wait, as in the  _ god _ , the Archaean?” asked Prompto, his eyes wide with amazement. Noctis had to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah, that’s part of her thing as the Oracle.”

“No way! That’s so cool!”

Noctis had to smile at Prompto’s enthusiasm, though he knew that Luna’s talents were more of a burden than a gift. How soon would she arrive in Lestallum? He’d been trying not to think too hard about it. He still wasn’t sure whether or not he could face meeting her. They’d never been able to even speak in person last time, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to see her, knowing what fate might eventually befall her. But that was a decision for later. For now, he needed to finish his story. Though he quite suddenly realised that he wouldn’t have known exactly what Gentiana’s message would have meant at that point in time and quickly tried to act confused.

“Anyway, once Titan wakes up apparently it’s my ‘destiny’ to ‘gain his favour’ or something,” he said. He suspected that Gentiana had been deliberately vague on that particular point. Possibly because each of the Hexatheon wanted him to do different things, but most likely because gaining Titan’s favour meant fighting him, and ‘Go and punch the Archaean’ wasn’t exactly the most appealing of suggestions.

“What really?” asked Prompto, snapping Noctis out of his reverie. “Do you think they’ll make you do stuff for them? What would a god want though? Hey, do you think Titan will make you destroy that meteor on his back? That thing must be a massive pain.”

“Maybe?” said Noctis, conjuring a mental image of himself repeatedly stabbing the Meteor of the Six with the Ultima Blade in an attempt to destroy it. It was not an appealing image. “Who knows with the Astrals?”

“That would be so cool!” said Prompto, looking dreamily off into the distance. Noctis resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Perhaps,” he said, then reluctantly carried on with his tale. “So anyway, after I spoke to Gentiana I had to get back to Lestallum—that was the tricky part.”

“Wait, you had to get back to Lestallum? I don’t remember you leaving it!” said Prompto, turning to him with a frown.

“Oh! Yeah,” said Noctis, trying to pretend he hadn’t deliberately left that part out. In his defence, he had asked Umbra if he could have driven there, and the dog had been distinctly unhelpful about it. “Gentiana wasn’t in Lestallum, she was, uh, pretty far away, actually.”

“How far away are we talking here?” asked Prompto, and there was a slightly teasing note to his voice.

“Let’s  _ hypothetically _ say around the distance from here to the Disc of Cauthess,” said Noctis, beginning to regret his decision.

“Hypothetically,” said Prompto, with a knowing smirk. “Got you. Also,  _ wow _ .”

Noctis gave Prompto his most withering look, but it seemed to slide off him like water. Infuriating.

“So  _ anyway _ ,” he began, through gritted teeth, “On the way back I was totally wrecked by daemons, as in, used-up-most-of-my-potions wrecked. So yeah, in summary, that thing you said about me being really good at fighting—definitely not true.”

“Huh, that’s kind of weird,” said Prompto, looking at him quizzically. “You’ve been fine with most of them so far, I mean, it’s not like this is the first time you’ve done this or anything. We just knew where you were. And you didn’t collapse.”

“Yeah,” said Noctis, trying to push down the familiar stab of guilt and act nonchalant. “What can I say; the initial adrenaline must’ve worn off or something.”

“I don’t think adrenaline can make you that good at fighting dude, but I guess I can’t argue given what happened when you got back…” said Prompto, and Noctis was pleased he’d managed to distract Prompto from his feelings of inadequacy, if a little less pleased they’d come back around to the subject of his collapse.

“Hmm, well I haven’t fainted yet so I’m going to take that as a good sign,” said Noctis sighing and stretching his arms. His muscles were definitely still sore, but no longer in the awful, almost electric way they’d been before.

Noctis glanced once more at the street to triple check they were still going the right way when he noticed they’d soon arrive back at the hotel. Sure enough, they turned a corner and there it was, looming tall over the square, still bustling with people. By then it was mid-afternoon, and the slightest streaks of yellow were beginning to cross the sky as the sun began to sink behind the clouds. Noctis couldn’t help but note to himself that it seemed a little early for the sun to be setting already, but perhaps he was simply on edge. He hadn’t exactly been watching for it last time.

And on the subject of time, he still had at least four days until Titan awoke. He no longer needed to collect the Royal Arms, since they were all safely stored in his Armiger and appeared to be fully functional as weapons. Ideally, all he’d actually need to do was track down Ardyn and attempt to kill him straight away, but he had no way of knowing if he’d show up in Lestallum again, or if his theory was actually true. Instead he’d just have to fight Titan again. But what to do in the intervening time? It all came back to Luna. She would be here soon, and he had to see her when she did. He didn’t want to. He was scared of having to face her again, and still felt, on some subconscious level, that he’d already failed her. But he had no choice. He’d decided long ago that this time things would be different, and what better way of preventing Luna’s death than warning her himself?

He continued to ponder his next actions as he ascended the steps of the hotel into the foyer, Prompto trailing just behind him. When he looked around for the receptionist however, he was greeted instead by the sight of Ignis and Gladio, engaged in quiet conversation near the back of the room. They hadn’t noticed his presence.

For a moment, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. On the one hand, the sooner he could reconcile with Gladio, the better. He didn’t want the awkward tension hanging between them for the duration of the trip like it had after Leviathan. On the other hand, he still wasn’t exactly happy with him, and more to the point, didn’t know if Gladio was ready to talk about it yet. Trying to speak to him right then could easily become very awkward, and he didn’t know if he was ready for it yet.

Instead he elected to remain silent and watch for a while to try and work out if Gladio was still angry or not. He wasn’t shouting, but that wasn’t exactly saying much, and his expression was fairly inscrutable as he and Ignis spoke in hushed voices. Noctis couldn’t quite make out what they were saying and was going to edge closer when he caught sight of someone else in the room he hadn’t noticed at first.

Iris was sitting next to Talcott in the corner of the room, away from her brother, and had apparently seen him come in because she was already looking at him. She beckoned him over and he sat next to her, Prompto sitting just across from them.

“So, how is he?” asked Prompto, his voice quiet.

Iris shrugged.

“Not as angry as he was, I guess,” she said with a sigh, “But I think you should probably talk to him yourselves. If he gets mad I’ll tell him off for you.”

“Are you sure?” asked Noctis, now more reluctant than ever to face Gladio again.

“Gladdy’s just…difficult, sometimes,” said Iris, with a sigh. “To be honest I was more worried about  _ you _ , Noct. But I’m glad he didn’t upset you too much. I heard that things got pretty heated in there.”

Noctis tried not to think about the red patches he was hiding under his glove. It was  _ his _ fault, not Gladio’s.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him to say ‘No, it’s  _ not _ alright,  _ I’m _ not alright,’ and just pretend everything was back to normal. That was what they wanted, right?

“Well, if he blows up at you again I’m pretty sure Ignis will bite his head off before I even get the chance to,” said Iris, looking back over at the pair conversing in the back. “So good luck Noct!”

“Thanks Iris,” said Noctis, taking one last look over at where they were sitting, before rising from his seat and heading over to them.

“Hey, you’re just going to go up to him?” asked Prompto, grabbing his shoulder from behind and pulling him back slightly.

“I think I just need to get this over with, you know?” he said, and Prompto thought for a moment, before nodding and letting him go.

“Hey,” he said loudly, finally catching their attention. “So, you’re back.”

Gladio just looked at him for a moment, before rising from his seat. Noctis couldn’t read his expression and had to stop himself from instinctively shrinking back from his height. As the silence lengthened it looked like he would have to be the one to initiate further conversation.

“Just to clear the air, I’m sorry for leaving you hanging all night,” he said, and he hoped it would be enough.

“No, it’s fine,” sighed Gladio, and Noctis could tell just by his voice that he’d calmed down from earlier. “You did mess up…but I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. All of us make mistakes. So, I guess I’m sorry too.”

“Thank you,” said Noctis, though he wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say. Still, at least it was out in the open now. Hopefully things would be more smooth from here on out. He found himself pondering Prompto’s words from earlier, ‘back to normal’ he’d said. Perhaps that’s what he had to do. Act like everything was back to normal. For as long as it took. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's another chapter! Prompto finally gets to find out what Noct has been up to, and despite this turning out to be totally fine, Noct still refuses to even think about letting any of the others know what he's going through! So the cycle continues. All joking aside this was fairly nice to write since it's an official...truce? I guess? I mean, none of them are _entirely_ happy but things are looking up for them as a group. So naturally the next chapter will be full of angst (that's why this fic isn't tagged hurt/comfort). 
> 
> In any case, thank you to everyone still reading, let me know if you liked it, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	13. Branching Paths

For a moment there was an awkward silence that seemed to envelop the room, and Noctis didn’t know what to say, the atmosphere almost crushing him. Thankfully Ignis came to his rescue by clearing his throat and finally making his presence known.

“Noct, I found something of yours in your bag,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “I thought you might want to hold on to it. To prevent anything like this from happening in future.”

Ignis proceeded to hand him his phone, and Noctis took it from him with not a small amount of discomfort. He hadn’t  _ meant _ to leave his phone behind, but it’s existence had temporarily slipped his mind, and he had no doubt Ignis had attempted to call him while he was out. Just one more slip-up to add to his ever increasing list of mistakes.

“Right. Thanks Specs,” he said, before turning it on to see exactly how many calls he’d managed to miss over the last few days. “Oh  _ shit. _ ”

‘36 MISSED CALLS’ was emblazoned across his screen.

“Hey, what is it?” asked Prompto, looking over his shoulder to see what all the fuss was about. “ _ Oh, _ wow.”

He quickly entered the password to see who’d been calling him, though he had a pretty good idea already. One of the missed calls was from Ignis, who’d likely realised he’d forgotten his phone when he didn’t pick up the first time. The others were from Cor, who he now realised—about three days too late—had no way of knowing whether or not he was still alive. And he hadn’t been answering his phone. Fabulous.

“What’s up?” asked Gladio, also trying to get a look at the phone.

“I forgot to let Cor know I’m still alive, so I’ve got about a million missed calls from him,” said Noctis, still looking mournfully at his phone and really,  _ really _ not looking forward to the earful he was probably about to get.

“Might I suggest you call him now?” said Ignis, now more exasperated than anything else. Exasperated was good. He could deal with exasperated.

“Yeah, I guess,” sighed Noctis, already pressing the call-back button.

The phone rang for about two seconds before a voice came through from the other side.

“Prince Noctis?” it asked, and Noctis quickly identified the usually quite cold voice of the Marshal, now hoarse with desperation. Noctis wasn’t entirely sure he could deal with much more guilt on his conscience before the ground actually swallowed him whole.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, before internally smacking himself. Definitely not the best thing to have said. Even ‘Sorry, I lost my phone,’ would have been better, but  _ no. _ His dumb brain just had to come out with  _ 'Yeah, it’s me,' _ .  _ That _ wasn’t going to piss him off or anything.

“What do you mean  _ it’s me? _ ” thundered Cor, and Noctis had to hold the phone away from his ear to avoid being deafened. “I thought I’d lost the entire royal family, and you call me three days late with  _ 'it’s me?’ _ Do you know the trouble I’ve been to to try and find out what happened to you? I thought you were  _ dead! _ ”

“I know, I’m sorry,” said Noctis, doing his best to try and judge what would anger him the least without being able to actually see him. There was a silence and Noctis could practically see Cor trying to get his temper back under control. “I dropped my phone, if that helps. It probably doesn’t.”

It wasn’t  _ strictly _ true, but it was the closest he was willing to get after the fiasco he’d just been through.

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” growled Cor, and Noctis almost instinctively began to pull the phone away from his ear in anticipation of another round of shouting, but Cor was apparently able to keep his temper under control that time, because he continued in a strained, but still indoor voice. “But I suppose that doesn’t really matter now. The important thing is that you’re still alive.”

“Right,” said Noctis, hardly daring to breathe.

“Where are you?” asked Cor, and Noctis slowly exhaled.

“We’re in Lestallum, Iris is here with us.”

“Ah yes, I remember one of my men saying as much,” said Cor, now more weary than anything else. “Didn’t mention seeing any sign of you though.”

“Guess I don’t stand out much in a crowd,” said Noctis, attempting to lighten the mood a little. He heard Cor chuckle over the line and was relieved that on at least one occasion it had actually worked.

“It would certainly seem so,” said Cor, his initial anger having now faded into relief. “To think you’ve been in Lestallum for three days I’ve heard neither hide nor hair of you from any of the Crownsguard. You’d think I wouldn’t  _ have _ to tell them what the Crown Prince looks like—”

Cor cut himself off, and Noctis guessed he’d just realised that he was technically the King now. He almost wished that the idea was as unfamiliar to him as it had been then. But that was a long time ago.

“But that’s what dad wanted, right?” said Noctis, trying to push the conversation forward again.

“Yes…yes, it was,” said Cor, quieter now. “In any case, there are things we need to discuss in person. Meet me at Callatein’s Plunge, there’s something there I need to show you.”

“Callatein’s Plunge?” asked Noctis, but Cor had already hung up on him. “Great.”

“What was all that about?” asked Prompto, peering curiously at him.

“Cor wants me to go to ‘Callatein’s Plunge’, says there’s something there he wants to show me,” said Noctis, who couldn’t for the life of him remember anything relevant to wherever it was.

“Oh, oh, Prince Noctis!” cried a small voice somewhere to his right.

He turned to look for the mysterious owner of said voice, to see none other than Talcott Hester staring up at him with wide eyes.

“What is it Talcott?” he asked, trying hard not to laugh at the little boy’s precocious demeanour.

“I heard that there’s a legend about a sword behind Callatein’s Plunge, it’s supposed to be magical!” he said, clearly excited to be helping them.

Of course, he remembered now. Callatein’s Plunge must have been the waterfall they visited to find the Swords of the Wanderer last time. Cor must want him to begin collecting the Royal Arms once more, since there was no way he could know that Noctis already had all of them still neatly stored in his Armiger. That was one thing he actually hadn’t tested yet. He had no idea whether or not the others would notice if he had them, though given their obliviousness regarding both the Ring and his new clothes his hopes weren’t exactly high. Still, the entire excursion would ultimately be useless, and he had a much better chance of changing things for the better if he remained in Lestallum. On the other hand, Cor was probably still worried about him, as were his friends, so perhaps it was for the best to play along for now. If they went fast enough they could obtain the Swords and be back at Lestallum in time to catch Luna.

He was about to say as much when he quite suddenly remembered exactly what happened in his absence last time. Sure, it was a bit earlier than before, the risk was still there. Almost any Imperial soldier could attempt to convince Talcott to tell them about the Amicitias, no matter how close it was to Titan’s awakening. He would not allow Jared to die again. He needed to get them, and probably Iris as well, out of Lestallum as soon as possible. Sometimes it was difficult to remember that it was technically Imperial territory. That  _ all _ of Lucis was now technically Imperial territory. He suppressed a shudder.

“Thanks Talcott,” he said, looking fondly down at him. “We’ll definitely head over there, but are you guys sure you’ll be safe here?”

“What do you mean Noct?” asked Iris, who’d come over after noticing Talcott was gone.

“I know it’s hard to tell, but Lestallum  _ is _ Imperial territory now,” said Noctis, putting on his best acting skills. He  _ needed _ to convince them to leave. “It’s not swarming with soldiers or anything, but there could be informants anywhere, and you guys are still associated with the royal family.”

“Isn’t that kind of paranoid Noct?” asked Prompto, looking at him a bit concernedly. “I mean, you’ve been all over Lestallum, and no one’s stopped us or anything yet.”

“I know, I just—something doesn’t feel right here,” he said, trying his best to appear legitimately concerned and not just like he was losing his mind. “I don’t want you or Jared to be in danger when you could be safer somewhere else.”

“Where did you have in mind Noct?” asked Ignis, his face and voice carefully neutral, giving nothing away. Noctis hoped that meant he was taking him seriously.

“Cape Caem has an outpost you could stay at,” he said, doing his best to appear convincing. This was the make-it or break-it moment. “Only the Crownsguard know about it, so you’d definitely be safer there than here.”

“The royal port…certainly a secure location,” said Ignis, carefully considering the idea.

“Yeah, and it has a boat we could use to get to Altissia—if we ever need to go there,” he said, quickly cursing his own name and trying to cover for his slip-up.

There was no reason they’d need to go to Altissia yet—Luna wasn’t there. In fact he was well aware of the fact that she’d soon be in Lestallum, as he had told Prompto not ten minutes ago. He sincerely hoped he wouldn’t call him out on it.

“Ah yes, last used by King Regis, but that would have been almost thirty years ago now, I doubt the boat would be in working order…” said Ignis, thankfully too absorbed in the logistics of such a trip to notice Noctis’s slip-up.

“Yeah, but the main issue is whether it’s safe, which I think we can agree—it is,” said Noctis, trying not to sound too snippy.

“Of course…your Highness,” said Ignis, rather stiffly. He’d definitely been too snippy.

“I think you should go too Iris,” said Gladio, finally chipping in. “I don’t want to come back to find one of you missing, or worse.”

“But Gladdy, we’ve only been here for two days!” protested Iris, clearly not happy about having to leave Lestallum again so quickly.

“I know—I’m sorry you’re being shunted from place to place, but this will be the last trip. I promise.”

“Well if I  _ have _ to,” sighed Iris, rolling her eyes. “Guess I’ll go get my stuff,  _ again. _ ”

“That’s the spirit!” said Gladio, and Iris stuck out her tongue at him as she continued up the stairs.

“Hey Talcott, could you tell your grandpa to do the same?” asked Noctis, bending down to Talcott’s level as he spoke. “I want you guys to get to safety as soon as possible.”

“Sure thing Prince Noctis!” said Talcott cheerily, before running off into the hotel.

The four of them were alone in the hotel lobby once again, and Noctis was going to try and make an excuse to go back to their hotel room so he could re-review his list in peace when Ignis suddenly grasped his shoulder.

“A word, Noct?” he asked, and Noctis could tell just by the look on his face that he was probably about to be taken to task. Again. What’d he done this time?

“Sure, what is it?” he said, attempting to feign ignorance.

“I’d prefer to discuss this away from the others, if you don’t mind,” said Ignis, and Noctis could feel a nervous tension building in him in spite of himself.

“Okay, lead the way,” he said, figuring it was probably best to just see how this played out rather than try and argue.

Ignis began to ascend the stairs, and Noctis guessed they were probably heading back to the hotel room. So much for some peace and quiet. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before they were back in front of Room 243. Ignis opened the door using the key card he’d almost certainly dropped when he fell unconscious, and held it open for him, indicating they go inside. Noctis entered the room, and as he did he felt a twinge of nausea, the memory of what he’d done not a few hours ago flowing back into his mind. His arm itched. He tried to ignore it.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and Ignis quickly followed him into the room, closing the door behind him, before briefly glancing at Noctis and sighing to himself. Had he not been so nervous he’d probably have been offended.

“I suppose there’s no easy way to do this, is there?” asked Ignis, though Noctis got the feeling he was talking more to himself than at him.

“I don’t know. Depends what you’re doing,” he said, wanting Ignis to just get to the point so he could mope in peace.

“Allow me to start with something simple then,” said Ignis, and Noctis held back the urge to sigh. “What’s brought on this sudden paranoia of yours?”

So, that was what he was um-ing and ah-ing about. Amongst other things, if that was his starting topic. This was going to be difficult.

“Paranoia?” he asked, hoping he sounded suitably confused. Ignis was unmoved.

“Indeed,” he said, pausing for a moment, as though trying to organise his argument in his head. “What you said about Lestallum being under Imperial control is true, but to insist on Iris and the Hester family leaving…have you seen, or heard something that’s worrying you Noct?”

“Ah, no! I just—” he began, before realising that that was probably the wrong thing to say. Now he needed to think of a different excuse. “Listen I’ve—I’ve been having these nightmares…”

Ignis tilted his head in curiosity.

“What kind of nightmares?”

“I see them dying,” said Noctis, slightly breathless. He hoped beyond hope that Ignis would buy it. “And there’s nothing I can do. The Imperials just march in and start firing on everyone, just like—just like…”

He was referencing the death of Queen Sylva, something he certainly  _ had _ had nightmares about, even into adulthood, though he hadn’t actually had any recently. Which was probably unsurprising, what with his brain currently being flooded with more recent trauma to have nightmares about. Like watching Luna being stabbed on an altar as Leviathan’s rage destroyed an entire city. Or a world consumed in never-ending darkness, millions dead, and only one city left to light the dark. But Ignis had no way of knowing that, and his distress had evidently been convincing, since he moved from the wall he was leaning against to sit next to him on the bed.

“How long has this been going on Noct?” he asked, and his voice was gentle once more.

“A while,” he murmured. “It’s not just them…”

“It’s us too, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You know we’re capable of looking after ourselves Noct?” asked Ignis, though not in an accusatory way.

“I know,” he said, taking a deep breath. “It’s just…hard.”

Ignis sighed and smiled sadly.

“You must be exhausted,” he said, now looking him over with a familiar concern.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, hoping this would be his excuse to be left alone.

“Noct…I know it might be difficult for you to answer this, but…is that all that’s been bothering you?” asked Ignis, and Noctis glanced over at his face, noticing there a weariness and unease he hadn’t seen in a long time.

He knew he couldn’t tell Ignis the truth of what had happened to him. He’d scarcely dared to think about it, except in how he could change this reality to one better than the last. He didn’t want the others to feel guilty on his behalf, or even to ever have to know of the tragedy they’d just barely escaped. Or hadn’t escaped at all. He still had no idea whether what he was doing would ultimately change anything, or if it did, whether things would change for the better. He’d been clinging to the idea that nothing could be worse than what happened last time, but looking at Ignis’s face and seeing the signs of age and worry that shouldn’t be there until Altissia forced him to think otherwise. He couldn’t allow them to waste what little time they had left to be happy and carefree on worrying about him.

“I’m sure,” he said, with more conviction than he’d had before. “I guess I’ve just…been too wrapped up in my own head to notice you guys are struggling too.”

“Noctis,” said Ignis, now with a frown, “none of us are accusing you of overlooking our pain.” Noctis opened his mouth to protest, but Ignis swiftly continued, cutting him off. “I know Gladio hurt you with what he said, and I’ve had words with him about it, but now I want you to listen to me. If you need time to grieve, you can have it. If that’s part of what’s been troubling you, then you don’t have to pretend to be strong for our sakes. None of us would resent you for that. If anything, I’ve been worried about you putting us  _ ahead _ of yourself. Did you truly mean what you said about coming to Lestallum for us?”

“Well…yeah,” said Noctis, a little taken off-guard by the direction the conversation had gone in. “I mean, it’s important that you guys know what happened, right?”

Ignis gave him a strange smile before looking at the floor and shaking his head.

“What am I going to do with you Noct?” he asked, and Noctis sensed the question wasn’t actually directed at him. “You don’t have to do this for us,  _ we’re _ the ones who are supposed to be taking care of you.”

For a moment, it was like the world fell still, hearing Ignis’s words reverberate around his skull, taunting him. He felt himself slipping, sliding back into the past—into his failures.

All at once he was lying prone on the ground, watching as Ardyn slid a blade deep into Luna’s stomach, helpless to do anything but cry out in shock—then he was sitting on the train, seeing Ignis in his shades leaning heavily on his cane, Gladio scowling at him across the carriage—and then he was running through Gralea, and he could see Prompto strung up to some torture device, covered in bruises, Ardyn laughing somewhere in the distance.

“No! You shouldn’t have to sacrifice yourselves for me!”

“Noctis!” cried Ignis, grasping him by the wrist. He came crashing back into the present, and Ignis was looking at him with fear in his eyes. “Noctis…” he said again, more quietly now, wrapping his arm around his shoulder and pulling him close. “None of us are in any danger right now, you’re safe. I promise.” Noctis felt his breath hitching in his throat. He’d messed up again. “Is this because of these nightmares of yours?” he asked.

“They just keep coming back,” whispered Noctis, and he wasn’t talking about his nightmares, but he wasn’t lying either. “I can’t escape.”

Ignis sighed and gently rubbed his shoulder.

“I can’t protect you from them, Noct,” he said gently, trying to reassure him. “But I can be there for you when you need me to be. Don’t ever forget that.”

Noctis tried not to cry again, tried not cause any more distress, but his emotions were so tangled and he was so tired of trying to hide everything that he thought his head might explode. He opted to bury his head in his hands to try and hide his tears, but he knew it wasn’t working. He’d failed again. This had been his opportunity to reassure Ignis, to act like nothing was wrong, but he just kept on screwing it up somehow. Why did he even want to know? Couldn’t everybody just leave him alone for one minute?

The skin under his glove felt almost unbearably itchy, and he wanted to take it off and scratch at his arm again, just to get some sense of release, to drown out the furious voice in his head screaming at him to  _ get it together already! _ But he didn’t, if only because he couldn’t. Not while Ignis was still around.

He took a few more shuddering breaths as he tried to calm himself back down. It was fine, this situation wasn’t unfixable, and he’d at least managed to come up with a semi-convincing excuse. For now, at least. Ignis hadn’t thought he’d been lying about his nightmares, he was fairly sure of that. And it wasn’t like he  _ hadn’t _ been having them, just not the ones he’d described to Ignis.

“Will you be alright Noct?” asked Ignis, looking down at him with a now familiar concern.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, though his voice was still shakier than he’d like it to be.

“Are you sure? You’ve been looking awfully pale…” asked Ignis, and Noctis bit back the urge to say something sarcastic about how he’d only been conscious for about a quarter of the past three days.

“That’s probably, um, nothing,” he said awkwardly, changing his mind about halfway through the sentence. He’d been going to say something about how he hadn’t eaten, but saying anything about food in front of Ignis was a pretty fast way to get scolded in his experience. Not to mention he would not be at all happy to learn about his near-fainting spell in the street.

“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” asked Ignis, who’d zeroed in on his mistake like a hawk.

“Well, listen, I’ve been unconscious for most of the last three days right?” Noctis began, already trying to justify himself.

“That has not gone unnoticed,” said Ignis, who’d long ago perfected withering sarcasm into an art form.

“So, yeah, the point is, that, being unconscious and everything, I’ve had like nothing to eat—”

“—You  _ what? _ ”

“—And it’s not really that big of a deal, I got something when I went out with Prompto—”

“—You haven’t eaten in  _ three days? _ ”

“I had something when I went out!”

“That’s not the point Noctis!”

Noctis could tell that Ignis was trying very hard to repress the urge to tell him off in light of the conversation they’d just had, but also that it must have been torture, because he was fairly sure that if Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose any harder he’d cut off his oxygen supply.

“What have you had?” asked Ignis, not a little begrudgingly.

“Um, a yoghurt?” said Noctis hesitantly, trying to mentally prepare himself for the ordeal he was probably about to be put through.

“I  _ suppose _ it’s sensible for you not to eat too much after such a long period of starvation,” said Ignis, with a sigh. “But don’t think that lets you off the hook. I do not want this to happen again.”

“Understood,” said Noctis, profoundly thankful that Ignis had not chosen that point to lecture him.

Ignis looked back at him once more and gave another sigh, and Noctis tried not to roll his eyes at his passive aggressiveness.

“Where exactly do you want to go from here Noct?” asked Ignis, apparently having decided to overlook Noctis’s dining habits for the time being. “You said Cor wants to meet us at Callatein’s Plunge—it will be evening by the time we get there if we set off now. Will you be up to making the trip?”

“I think so,” said Noctis tentatively, wanting to reassure, but also to cover himself should he suddenly have another episode. “I’ll have time to rest in the Regalia.”

“Then it’s decided,” said Ignis, rising from his seat. “I’ll go and tell the others. Meet us downstairs in ten minutes?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Noctis, and Ignis nodded, before leaving the room.

Noctis sat up straight on the bed—he felt so tired he was tempted to lean back and fall straight to sleep, but he knew he couldn’t. He ran over the conversation he’d just had in his mind. He’d been upset, and even passed out due to his conflicting memories of time travel before, but this was the first time he’d had flashbacks. It worried him. At least one death was on his hands due to his own helplessness, and the déjà vu and the inconsistent memories were rendering him far more powerless than he’d anticipated. He tried not to think about what might happen during the summoning of the Hydraean if he was incapacitated by flashbacks. He suppressed a shudder.

In an effort to distract himself he pulled his list out of the Armiger and transferred the death of Prompto’s parents to the other side. At least he was making  _ some _ progress. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long until he could make a few more major transfers, though he looked at some things on the list and hoped he’d be able to erase them entirely. Replacing it safely in the Armiger, he rose from the bed. His eyes were still tired, but he planned to rest in the Regalia, if perhaps not actually sleep. He’d had just about enough of being unconscious to last him the rest of the week. So, with a slightly sluggish gait, he began to trudge down the stairs once again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, it's another chapter! Honestly I really liked writing this one, since things are really starting to come together in terms of Noct finally beginning to adjust to the time period and start making the decisions he needs to make to change the future. He's also just starting to realise that he doesn't need to keep _everything_ from his friends—only the incriminating parts. That being said, while some things get better, others only get worse, and Noct's, um, symptoms of PTSD*? Definitely start really kicking his ass in this chapter. 
> 
> *The question mark's there because when I began writing this I wasn't intentionally writing Noct as though he had PTSD, it's just that as I've characterised him I think there are definitely symptoms off it showing through, so there's a big 'maybe' there. 
> 
> That being said, thank you to everyone still reading, let me know if you liked it, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	14. Towards Destruction

The trip to Callatein’s Plunge was thankfully the most uneventful they’d had yet. After a brief goodbye to Iris, Talcott and Jared, who were just packing up as they left, they’d been able to go on their way, Ignis taking the wheel, allowing Noctis to catnap while the others talked. He felt oddly weightless and dizzy with his eyes closed, but figured it was probably just a combination of fatigue and his desire for sleep. For a while he was content to just stay like that and listen, however, it wasn’t too long before things began to get awkward. Apparently, what with his eyes closed and not particularly responding to anything being said, the others had decided he’d gone to sleep, and as a result the conversation had strayed to the topic of  _ him. _ To say he was profoundly uncomfortable about listening in was an understatement, but he didn’t want to actually go to sleep and, even more than that, this might be his only chance to truly judge how his friends were coping with his behaviour. So, with nervous, jittery feeling in the centre of his chest, he continued to listen.

“Uh, guys?” said a voice that Noctis quickly identified as Prompto’s. “Are we sure about letting him sleep in the car again? I mean, not to make things awkward, but we all remember what happened last time he did that, right?”

“Noctis informed me before we left that he wanted to rest on the journey, so I’d prefer it if we didn’t rouse him,” said voice that could only have been Ignis.

“So long as he doesn’t try to go off by himself again, I think we’ll be able to deal with whatever nonsense Cor throws at us,” said Gladio, and Noctis could still hear that quiet edge in his voice that told him that Gladio still wasn’t entirely happy with how things had worked out.

“Do any of us actually know what that might be?” asked Prompto.

“Not a clue. Got any ideas Iggy?” asked Gladio.

“If what Talcott told us is accurate, it’s possible he wants us to start collecting the Royal Arms,” said Ignis, and Noctis tried not to sigh at the idea he’d have to run around most of Lucis pretending to collect them again.

“What are those?” asked Prompto, who, naturally, wouldn’t have heard anything about them yet.

“Weapons belonging to the previous monarchs of Lucis, said to hold a great magical power, and only able to be wielded by someone of royal blood.”

“Wow!” said Prompto, and Noctis couldn’t help but be slightly amused at his seemingly endless enthusiasm for magic. “Being royalty sure lets you do some weird stuff, doesn’t it?”

“It’s true that no one fully understands the magic of the royal family. Though I do hope this doesn’t put too much strain on Noct,” said Ignis, and Noctis could hear a familiar worry in his voice.

There was a bit of a silence after that, and Noctis wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or relieved. It was fairly obvious that no one wanted to directly address what he’d been doing for the past week, which was frustrating, if understandable. In the end, Prompto was the one who finally broke the silence.

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” he asked, and his voice was quiet and sad.

Noctis immediately reconsidered whether or not listening in was a good idea, now strongly swinging towards the ‘No, it’s not,’ side again. He wasn’t sure how much more guilt his mind was able to cope with, but he was fairly convinced he was almost at his limit.

“It’s hard to say,” said Ignis, hesitantly. “It would help if we actually knew what was bothering him, but he seems…unwilling to tell us, to say the least.”

“Does it really matter what’s bothering him?” asked Gladio, finally chipping into the conversation once more. “It’s fairly obvious that whatever it is comes second to the fact he’s having some sort of nervous breakdown.”

“Gladio, he just needs time—” began Ignis.

“—What he  _ needs _ is a doctor, or a therapist or  _ something. _ Whatever’s wrong with him is beyond our scope to deal with. I think  _ that _ became obvious when he attacked that man at Galdin.”

“But we can’t risk a doctor!” cried Prompto. “We can’t risk the Imperials finding out that he’s…”

As silence settled over them, Noctis could feel his insides twisting and turning with guilt at the panic and tension he could feel in the air. All of this was his fault. If only he hadn’t been so stupid early on, if only he’d just  _ asked _ them whether they remembered. But now they were so upset about him, about  _ his _ behaviour, that even the precious few moments of relative happiness they had left were slipping away—and it was his fault.

He had to fix this, they deserved better than this constant anxiety over what he would do next. To think it was so bad they’d even consider a doctor…he couldn’t let things reach this point again, even if it meant hiding everything from them. Even if it meant lying through his teeth about how he really felt. He would  _ not _ let this happen.

“We’re coming up to the waterfall,” said Ignis, finally breaking the long silence that had followed Prompto’s outburst.  

“Should I wake him?” asked Gladio, and Noctis could feel the whoosh of air near his face as Gladio reached over to him.

“Please,” said Ignis, and Noctis could feel the familiar motion of the car already beginning to slow.

“Hey, rise and shine princess,” said Gladio, shaking him gently by the shoulder and he made a show of blearily coming to.

He didn’t actually have to put too much effort in, since, although he hadn’t been asleep, his eyes had definitely adjusted to the darkness. Even though it was well into the evening, the fading light still burned his eyes, causing him to blink until he got used to the brightness.

“Did you sleep well Noct?” asked Ignis, giving him a pointed look.

“Uggh,” was his coherent response.

“I’m gonna take that as a ‘no,’” said Prompto, who’d already leapt around to his side of the car and proceeded to give his shoulder a shove. “C’mon Noct, we’ve got to go meet Cor, remember?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” he mumbled, staggering out of the car and then leaning against the railings next to the road to try and get his bearings.

It didn’t take him too long to recover this time, probably because he hadn’t actually been asleep, or had another nightmare. He could see just ahead of him the path leading down to the waterfall, remembering just in time that said path was usually covered in at least a few aggressive animals ready to wreck their day. He hadn’t really been paying attention to how well the others were fighting before, having initially assumed they were at the same level as him. If Prompto’s comments to him before were any indication however, he’d been rather conspicuously carrying the team before, and he wasn’t sure whether or not he should continue to do so lest he only remind them of his…issues.

“You ready to go?” asked Gladio, suddenly next to him. He tried not to jump at the unexpected noise.

“Um, yeah, let’s get going,” he said, quickly recovering himself.

They continued down the rest of the path in silence, though not the awkward kind he’d almost gotten used to. This was their usual silence, the kind that tended to happen when only travelling short distances. He hadn’t realised how badly he’d missed their group dynamic up until that moment. So many things had been happening, most of them his own fault, that it felt like years since he’d experienced this. It  _ had _ been years, if he was counting the time he spent in the crystal. Six, since when had he felt so old?

He’d just began to descend the final slope when he was quite suddenly grabbed by the shoulder and pulled back.

“Noct, if I might make a suggestion,” said Ignis, looking past him, down the path.

“Sure, go ahead,” he said, and tried to hide how elated he felt to be experiencing something familiar for once.

“If we could break their appendages, this fight would become a lot easier,” said Ignis, directing his attention towards what lay at the bottom of the slope: namely some rather angry looking seadevils that he’d missed earlier.

“Got it,” he said, before concentrating on the one furthest from them and promptly warp-striking over to it, pulling his trusted Ultima Blade from the Armiger and plunging it deep into the unfortunate reptile’s tail.

The others swiftly followed him into the fray, and as he dodged the swipes and spray directed at him, he took a moment to observe how his friends were faring. They were struggling as a unit he noticed, and he heard at least five ‘sorry’s within the space of a minute. They definitely weren’t as practised at combat as he was used to, and he found himself acting more as support than doing any actual hitting.

Just as he was thinking this—pulling Prompto out of the way of a seadevil’s claws and countering with his sword, he heard a sharp cry behind him.

Ignis had been hit, another seadevil sinking its teeth deep into his arm. Noctis was over there in a second, slamming the pommel of the Ultima Blade into the creature’s head to get it to release him, handing him a potion and then stabbing it squarely through the throat, his sword sliding easily through the soft scales.

As he turned to see Ignis breaking the potion over his arm, another seadevil was already advancing towards him, sensing easy prey. Noctis quickly warped over to it, unleashing a flurry of strikes all over as he ducked and weaved away from its retaliations.

As the creature collapsed into the mud, he swiftly turned around, catching sight of Gladio squaring off against the very last seadevil. His broadsword swung in an arc over his head, slicing through the creature’s chest area with a sickening crunch. Noctis was briefly reminded of destroying another large, scaled monster in a very similar way. He shook himself. He didn’t have time to get distracted now.

Any qualms he’d previously had about hiding his true strength had been pretty solidly squashed by this encounter. Only he and possibly Gladio were up to being able to take care of themselves when it came to monsters—he couldn’t risk the lives of Prompto and Ignis for the sake of an act. He’d do his best not to be excessive, by say, using the Ring, which he’d been keeping safely in the Armiger since the Ardyn incident, but if his friends were in danger then he refused to neglect their safety. He was only doing this to make things better for them, after all.

“Thank you for earlier Noctis,” said Ignis, rising to his feet and glancing over at him.

“It was nothing, I don’t want any of  _ you _ ending up unconscious for twenty-four hours,” he said, swinging back onto his heels and looking around for the person they’d come there to meet.

“Same goes for you Noct,” said Gladio, jogging up beside him.

“I thought that went without saying,” he said, trying to prevent another awkward silence. Gladio just rolled his eyes at him and continued up the path. 

He followed after Gladio, Prompto and Ignis quick on his heels, until they reached the ledge that led up to the cave beyond the waterfall. On it stood Cor, looking down at them from on high, and Noctis could feel the nervous tension that had been following him from the start quickly returning.

“So, you made it,” said Cor, beginning to pace over to them.

“Yeah, sorry about the wait,” said Noctis, carefully observing Cor as he came closer. He looked more haggard than when they’d first met him last time. The stress of not knowing whether he was dead or alive had clearly taken its toll on him, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his clothing was more unkempt than usual. Noctis tried to ignore another surge of guilt.

“I know you’re alive  _ now, _ that’s all that matters,” he said, now right in front of them.

“Why did you bring us here Marshal?” asked Ignis, ever the most rational.

Cor sighed to himself before answering.

“I expect you’ve heard of the Royal Arms in your studies,” he said, directing the question towards Noctis. He nodded, indicating Cor should continue. “In this cave lies one of the Arms, to claim it is your birthright, and it will allow you to wield the power of kings, passed down through the royal family.”

“I see,” he said quietly.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to try and collect the Swords of the Wanderer just yet, particularly since he wasn’t sure if they would even be there—what with how they’d apparently transported through time with him. Not to mention the fact that, even the first time, with all the time they’d already spent fighting as a semi-cohesive unit, getting to the Swords had been quite a challenge. He didn’t want to put his friends through dangerous fight after dangerous fight without any preparation. 

“Do you have a map?” asked Cor, taking him slightly off guard. Something Cor evidently noticed, if the way he briefly narrowed his eyes at him was any indication.

“Um, yeah. Why?” he asked, hoping that Cor wouldn’t try to grill him over his absent-mindedness. It was just another of the things that’d begun when he was sent into the past, and so far had proved to be fairly hard to shift.

“Let me see it, would you?” asked Cor, thankfully deciding to overlook the mistake.

“Sure,” said Noctis, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the map, before handing it to Cor, who looked over it with a discerning eye. After glancing over it, he gestured at Noctis to come over to him. Noctis did so, and looked at the spot Cor was indicating on the map, a fairly familiar spot, as it so happened.

“Another Arm lies here, and another in the depths of the Keycatrich Trench,” he said, and Noctis tried hard not to look too miserable about the fact it was beginning to look like he  _ would _ have to gather all the Royal Arms after all. “Here are the keys. I’ll circle their locations so you won’t forget. There are other such weapons all over Lucis, however I suggest you listen to the locals for help with the locations of those.”

“Of course,” said Noctis, knowing full well that Ignis was listening and likely making a mental note of everything Cor was saying, so he’d have to pretend to gather them for at least a little while. Hopefully waking Titan would take their minds off it.

“That’s all I wanted to show you,” said Cor, looking at him once more with weary eyes. Had he been so tired-looking last time? Or had he simply been too caught up in his own grief to notice? “You know how to contact me if there’s anything else you need. And, your Highness?”

“Yeah?”

“Keep your phone on.”

“Right.”

Cor walked past them and back up the slope. Not once turning back. Noctis couldn’t help but hope to himself that he’d be okay—which was a ridiculous thing to think, since the Marshal was probably one of the most capable people still alive. Something felt wrong about letting him go off by himself though. He thought back to his nightmare, and the gravestones; Cor’s name had definitely been there. He shook himself. That had only been a dream, there was no point lingering on it. Nothing was going to happen to him. He wasn’t called ‘the Immortal’ for nothing after all. He tried to ignore the sensation at the back of his head he could only describe as something akin to sensing irony. He really needed to do something about those nightmares. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, hooray! It was an _interesting_ one to write, to be sure. Having people assume you're asleep when you're not is a uniquely uncomfortable experience, and Noct's really not enjoying this particular conversation. But it was definitely fun for me to try and work out how the others would interact with each other without Noct really there!
> 
> Cor is also being worn down by the sudden change in circumstances, albeit, not as badly as Noct's friends, who've been having to deal with this for a while now. Things are steadily progressing towards both gaining the Royal Arm and battling Titan though, so the next few chapters will probably be a bit more action-focused than usual.
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and let me know if you liked it!


	15. A Shift in Focus

“So, are we going to go after that Arm or what?” asked Prompto, pulling Noctis away from his unsettling train of thought.

“I don’t know, do you guys feel up to it?” he asked, more worried than ever about their ability to handle the trek to the Swords.

“We’ll be fine Noct, unless, of course,  _ you _ don’t feel up to it yet,” said Ignis, looking pointedly at him and probably thinking about their conversation back at the hotel. “You haven’t had much time to recover.”

“I think I’ll be alright,” he said, but even as he said it he felt unsure about what he was doing. He could have played up his ‘condition’ to keep them safe, but that would only cause them still more worry—worry he’d decided not to burden them with. Hopefully they’d be able to push through the grotto without incident, but something in the back of his mind was urging him not to. He tried to ignore it.

“So, it’s decided then,” said Gladio, who’d begun to stride towards the cave. “C’mon Noct, it’s getting dark out.”

“It’ll only be darker in the cave!” he protested, but he was already following after Gladio; the need to make sure Gladio was alright was already overpowering him. This was certainly going to make for an interesting experience, to say the least. Gladio was _not_ going to appreciate his worrying if he ever found out about it. Not that he was going to.

“Torches on, everyone,” said Ignis, activating his own, casting a white-blue light over the inside of the cave.

Noctis quickly followed suit—all the caution in the world wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t actually see what was going on. For a brief moment he could fully appreciate the horror of Ignis’s blindness, given that he had always tended to act as the support of the group last time. 

To suddenly be deprived of something once so essential, to have such a difficult time knowing what was happening around him, of knowing whether or not they were hurt—it must have been hell for him. He’d been able to adapt quickly at least, but Noctis was determined not to let it happen again. 

As they continued into the cave, the temperature began to drop, and ice became visible in the cracks of the walls. Noctis tried not to shiver, but the cold seemed to penetrate his very bones.

They would need to keep moving as long as they were in there. Soon the narrow passageways opened up into a wide cavern, the floor slippery with ice, and Noctis found himself struggling to keep a firm grip on the ground, taking slow, careful steps as he proceeded ever deeper into the cave. The cavern seemed to stretch on into forever, and not for the first time, Noctis couldn’t help but be unnerved by the darkness and the pervasive silence that seemed to hang over the landscape. It reminded him too much of his nightmares.

He instinctively felt himself tensing up, anticipating daemons around every corner. He wished he could break the silence, but he just couldn’t think of anything to say, and besides, wouldn’t the others usually be talking to each other anyway? Perhaps it was their conversation in the car, or perhaps it was simply that none of them had anything to say, but either way, Noctis couldn’t bring himself to speak. It was just too much, and the stillness seemed to hang ominously in the air, almost taunting him in his isolation. He was unnerved by how difficult it was for him to read the atmosphere of the group now. Had it always been like this? He didn’t think so, but it all seemed so long ago now...

Just as he was beginning to think the silence would go on forever, and that all the daemons had apparently abandoned the cave, he finally saw them. A group of around five imps were prowling in the platform just above them. Noctis didn’t remember imps as being particularly threatening in the past, but they’d done more fighting as a group back then and Noctis hadn’t felt as impossibly overwhelmed as he did now. Had he have tried to do this mere days ago he was sure he’d have felt no fear whatsoever, only apathetic adrenaline rushing through him. 

A lot had happened in that time though. 

He’d been torn apart by daemons both in his sleep and in his waking hours, and now he felt a kind of uncomfortable jitteriness at the prospect of fighting them again. He tried to focus on the fact he was much stronger than he had been the first time, and could probably cut the imps in two with a single slice if he wanted to, but it was difficult when he could still remember the sensation of having claws tearing through his arms and legs again and again. 

“How are we going to deal with them?” asked Gladio, broadsword already at his side in anticipation. Noctis couldn’t help but be a little relieved his friends were still willing to talk to him.

“They look fast, but weak. If we can quickly overpower them, this shouldn’t be too difficult,” said Ignis, similarly preparing his daggers, then looking at Noctis for the signal to go.

“Right,” said Noctis, taking one last glance at his friends—all ready for battle—before warp-striking into the nearest imp, knocking it backwards, leaving it mere moments from death. He swung his sword neatly across its neck, finishing the job. He quickly turned and looked for the others. Prompto was keeping his distance, firing at the daemons from several feet away, and Noctis couldn’t help but be slightly relieved he wasn’t putting himself in any obvious danger. 

Ignis seemed to be struggling a bit more with the battle, alternating between striking imps at a fair distance with a polearm and slashing at ones that got too close with his daggers. He was fast, but he couldn’t quite predict the daemons’ movements in the way he could last time—he didn’t have enough experience with them yet. 

As Noctis turned his gaze to Gladio, he saw him slamming into one of the imps with his sword, bashing it into the floor, leaving it dazed for only a few seconds before it leapt up and landed a swipe on his arm. Noctis was over there in a second, giving it a kick, before slicing it with his sword, leaving it to sink into a pile of daemonic miasma. Gladio was already breaking a potion over his arm, so Noctis quickly turned his attention to his other teammates, desperate to make sure they were all still okay.

As he turned to do this however, he felt a blinding pain down his leg and then kicked back as hard as he could, knocking the imp responsible clean across the room. He immediately dropped to his knees and examined the injury, but just the amount of blood told him there was no way he’d be able to avoid using a potion this time. With not a small amount of hesitance, he drew one out of his Armiger and tried to ignore the quiet voice in the back of his head telling him not to as he broke it over his leg. 

As he looked up in an attempt to distract himself, he saw that the imp that had landed a hit on him had already righted itself and was once more bounding towards him, a mistake it almost instantly regretted as he pulled a polearm from his Armiger and proceeded to skewer it, killing it instantly. He span around once again to make sure no one else was hurt, and fortunately it seemed like that was last of the imps in that area. The entire group was looking more than a little ragged however, and Noctis tried not to cringe at the thought that that particular group of imps had only been one of many that inhabited the grotto, not to mention the other, far more dangerous creatures which lurked there.

“How is everyone?” he asked, trying not to let the stress show on his face.

“Freezing!” said Prompto, shuddering.

Noctis tried not to laugh. He didn’t doubt that Prompto was cold, in fact, there was no way he  _ couldn’t _ be, what with his sleeveless shirt and jacket. There was just something inherently funny about him having the audacity to complain about the cold when he was clearly in no way prepared for it—something he’d had evidently picked up on if the mocking glare he was throwing in Noctis’s direction was any indication.

“Perhaps try bringing a jumper next time,” he said, and Prompto just rolled his eyes at him.

As they continued on into the cave, Noctis’s heart initially felt a little lighter. The gloom was still menacing and oppressive, and silence seemed to hang over them like a cloud in the moments between battles, but so far, everyone was still safe. His mood gradually began to sink, however, as they got into more skirmishes, and there were several near misses—Noctis found himself having to pull both Prompto and Ignis out of mortal danger on more than one occasion. This certainly did nothing for his anxiousness regarding their skill, but he found himself having to concentrate more on what  _ he _ was doing as he grew more tired.

Perhaps he  _ had _ gone into this too quickly. He was already beginning to feel sluggish and weary, his warps gradually getting slower, his hits less deadly. He hadn’t reached the potion limit yet, but he knew he was getting there, and being constantly distracted by making sure his friends were alright wasn’t helping matters. Eventually, as they were getting towards what Noctis would deem to be around two-thirds of the way there, Gladio pulled him aside.

“You sure you’re up to this?” he asked, and Noctis tried not to look too battered.

“Sure, just need a bit of a breather,” he said, hoping Gladio would catch the hint and let the matter go.

“‘Cause if you’re not, we need to know,” he continued, ignoring Noctis’s hints and instead looking severely at him from his full height.

“Hey, I’ve been fighting just fine!” he protested, this time unable to hide his annoyance.

“I’m not saying you’re not, only that if you need a break, you need to tell us,” said Gladio, and Noctis couldn’t help but feel a twinge of relief that he appeared to be a lecturing mood rather than a shouting one. “And Noct?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t need to look out for Ignis and Prompto so much,” he said, and Noctis was going to protest, but Gladio quickly cut him off. “I know you want to make sure they’re okay, that’s...understandable after everything that’s happened. But they do know how to look after themselves—they have potions and they know how to use them. If you get distracted in battle by looking for them though, you’re just going to get yourself hurt. But I’m sure you’ve realised that by now.”

“I know,” said Noctis, quietly, and it was true. He’d been doing his utmost to make sure everyone else was okay, but as a result had been sustaining more injuries and using more potions than was strictly necessary. “I guess it’s just…difficult. I don’t want them to get hurt on my account.”

Gladio sighed and rolled his eyes and Noctis was tempted to snap at him, but decided it would probably be for the best if he didn’t get into another argument with Gladio so soon after the first.

“Noct, listen, I know I was laying into you earlier about not thinking about the rest of us,” began Gladio, and Noctis could already feel his heart sinking at the memory. “But we  _ are _ here to look after you. It’s our job to keep you safe, and we can’t do that if you’re constantly distracted trying to do the same for us. Let us be your eyes and ears, but remember we’re people too. That’s all I’m asking.”

For a moment all Noctis could do was look up at Gladio and try vainly not to scream. Not out of frustration—well, partially out of frustration, but mostly because all he could see was Ignis with his sunglasses and cane, as a direct result of ‘looking after him’. He thought it was probably the comment about ‘eyes and ears’ that had done it, and he tried to control his face to look normal while he waited for the intense memory to pass.

“Hey, Noct?” asked Gladio, his hand suddenly grasping him firmly by the shoulder.

“What?” he managed to gasp, the sudden contact bringing him rushing back to the present. Gladio was looking down at him with concern in his eyes. That was definitely not a good sign.

“You were shaking pretty bad. Is everything alright? Do you need to turn back?” he asked, and Noctis could see Ignis watching their exchange out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t afford to turn back now, not after everything he’d put them through.

“I’m…I’ll be alright,” he said, remembering what happened last time he tried insisting he was fine to Gladio. “It’s just way too cold in here.”

“As long as you’re sure,” said Gladio, though his eyes were narrowed and Noctis could tell that he didn’t particularly believe him.

He turned and began to head back over to the others, sharing a glance with Ignis that gave Noctis the distinct impression he was going to get taken aside again later. Likely on the same subject. He found himself profoundly hoping that they’d be able to let the matter go fairly soon. He knew that his concerns about them seemed strange and unfounded without context, but every time he had the discussion he just found himself being thrown back into the past, with no way to control it. They had no way of knowing how much they’d already sacrificed for his sake. Did they even know how much they  _ would _ sacrifice for him? 

It scared him how far they’d been willing to go for him, when by all rights they’d have been perfectly justified in leaving him behind. He wasn’t sure he even deserved such loyalty, after all, he’d failed to keep his kingdom safe, to keep the people he loved from dying, and to end the Starscourge until it was much, much too late. Why did they keep following him, even to the very end? He had no way of knowing, or even asking. Did those versions of his friends even still exist? Or had they been destroyed by his journey back in time? 

He could feel his breathing getting faster. 

What if they were gone forever? Was that the price of going back in time? Were those versions of his friends as good as dead? Had he  _ killed _ them? 

He found his eyes focused on his hands. Gladio was right, they were shaking wildly. His whole body was shaking, and he knew it wasn’t from the cold. He tried to control his breathing, to focus on what was going on around him.

He noted the way the ice crept through the cracks in the rocks, deepening them, causing the stone to weaken over centuries. He felt the cold air on his skin, freezing to the touch. Like the cold hands of death.

How many had died for him?

No, he had to focus, to distract himself from that train of thought. He began counting the pillars of rock in the cavern: one, two, three, four…

“Hey Noct!”

Noctis couldn’t stop himself from jumping at the sudden noise. As he did, his right foot came down at an angle on the ice, and he felt himself slipping—then arms around his waist and shoulders, pulling him upright again.

“Whoa there! Hey, that’s like, the second time I’ve had to do that today! You’ve really got two left feet at the moment haven’t you?” said Prompto, smiling at him.

“Hah, yeah,” he said Noctis, exhaling slowly as he tried to get a grip on the time and place. He  _ needed  _ to do something about those flashbacks. “I just keep on drifting off, you know?” 

“I gotcha,” said Prompto, not looking overly concerned, which was a relief. “It’s so cold in here it’s hard to concentrate!” 

Suddenly Noctis felt his focus shift and change, his intense analysis on the walls and layout of the cavern now became almost entirely focused on Prompto. It was overwhelming for a moment—there was just too much of everything for him to even think straight, but gradually the feeling began to pass. As Noctis now looked more closely at Prompto’s face, he could see the same signs of exhaustion and worry he’d seen on Ignis’s not a few hours ago. Prompto was better at hiding it than Ignis though. Even as Noctis looked and saw how his eyes were still slightly puffy from his earlier crying, and the way his smile seemed almost painful for him to hold, he still tried his best to appear alright. 

“Hey, Prompto?” he asked, almost without quite thinking what he was doing.

“Yeah?”

“You know I don’t keep looking out for you because I think you’re a burden, right?” he said. 

Prompto’s eyes widened with shock at his question, and Noctis could feel his grip on his shoulder loosen slightly as he tried to recover his façade.

“I—Of course I do!” he said, trying to sound upbeat, but Noctis could hear his voice wavering ever so slightly.

“Good,” he said, and smiled at him as warmly as he could. “But if you ever do, know that it isn’t true, and never will be.”

He could feel Prompto’s grip on him shaking slightly, and he ducked his head, letting out a strained laugh ,  before gasping and covering his mouth with his hand, shoulders shuddering. Noctis reached out to him, but he intercepted his grasp, holding his wrist in the air between them. For a moment time stayed paused like that, and Noctis found his thoughts coming back to him.

For a moment he’d felt almost as though he could read Prompto’s mind. His focus had shifted from the cavern around him to the person in front of him, and it was like he could see everything with an intense and terrifying clarity. In that moment, he’d felt completely in control, as though he’d known exactly what he needed to say, and he’d said it—without thinking, without even fully realising what he was doing. He’d just  _ known. _ And it terrified him. How?

He felt Prompto begin to loosen his grip on his wrist, and he slowly began to lower it. Prompto allowed it to slide out of his grasp.

“Are you going to be alright?” asked Noctis, and Prompto just looked at him and smiled.

His eyes were rimmed with red, and he was still shaking either with emotion or from the cold, but for the first time in a long time, Noctis could tell that his smile was completely genuine. He smiled back, and for a moment he wished it looked even remotely as sincere as Prompto’s did. He was still utterly terrified of what had happened to him in that moment, and was doing his best not to start shaking again, but seeing that his words had at least had some positive impact—that had to count for something. Right?

“You know what?” asked Prompto, and there was a touch of laughter in his voice. “I think I’m going to be just fine.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Noctis, still smiling, and he meant it, even if he was still confused about what exactly had just happened. 

He felt his breath coming back to him, and even in spite of the cold, it somehow felt easier than it had been in some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! It was quite fun to write a fairly action-heavy sequence for once, given how much of the story so far has just been Noct and co. misunderstanding each other. Not that I don't love writing that, I definitely do, and not there's not any of that in this very chapter! But it's nice to change it up every now and then. 
> 
> I've been writing at kind of a more accelerated pace than usual, so I have a few chapters stored up for when my exams come into full swing and I won't have much time for writing, so hopefully, I'll still be able to update weekly even then. However, I'm well aware that even in spite of my best efforts, I may slip up, so if the updates start getting later, that will be why, and I'll definitely warn all of you when I 'run out' of chapters, so to speak. 
> 
> That being said, thank you to everyone still reading, let me know if you liked it, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	16. An Intense White Light

They were able to make swifter progress through the cavern after that, though Noctis continually noticed his thoughts wandering back to the strange moment of clarity he’d had in his conversation with Prompto. It’d been the most confident he’d felt since going back in time, so much so that for a while he was convinced that the stress he’d been experiencing prior had caused him to hallucinate it. But Prompto’s response to him would render that null, and so he didn’t know quite what to think. At least it had been a somewhat positive experience for once, rather than terrifying flashbacks, but it was still deeply unnerving, especially since he hadn’t felt fully in control of himself at the time.

Despite this distraction, he was managing to keep up in the seemingly endless fights against the imps, and though he was doing his best to follow Gladio’s advice and leave the others to their own devices, the powerful compulsion to check on them just would not go away. He wasn’t quite as obvious about it as he was before, but all of them would generally find him ‘coincidentally’ at their side to pull them out of near-fatal danger whenever necessary. He’d never be able to forgive himself if any of them were badly harmed, or, Astrals forbid, even died protecting him.

Eventually, after what felt like forever, and must have been at least a day, they reached the large, icy open space just before where the royal tomb lay. Noctis remembered this fight, and the reason he remembered it was because it had almost killed him the first time he did this. That had been when he was a lot weaker than he was now, but also a fair bit stronger than his companions were at their present state. To say this worried him would be an understatement, and the others definitely noticed his hesitance.

“Hey, it can’t be too far now, right?” asked Prompto, looking hopefully at him.

“No, I just don’t like the look of all that ice,” said Noctis, not particularly trying to be convincing. They’d all just been through a lot, and he hoped that that would serve as enough of an excuse on its own.

“No point just standing around staring at it, the sooner we get the Arm the sooner we can get out of here,” said Gladio, already beginning to head towards the opening that led to the royal tomb.

Noctis breathed deeply before following, preparing himself for the shrieking, grinding noise that was sure to follow. Sure enough, it did, and Noctis already had his daggers out and ready for the mindflayer which was emerging from the ground. With it were several imps and an Arachne, all of which were prepared to tear him to pieces in a second. He decided to focus on the mindflayer and let the others deal with the rest. He immediately warped into it, striking at the tentacles on its face, inflicting deep cuts which caused it reeled back in pain. This did not last long however, and it quickly lashed out at him, swiping at his face with its tentacles, leaving him barely enough time to warp out of the way, and not enough time to avoid the icy blast it levelled at him straight afterwards.

“Noct!”

A voice called out to him. He couldn’t quite tell who it was. The cold seemed to go straight through him and into his very core, as though he’d been frozen from the inside out. He had just about enough sense to conjure flames to his palms and clap them together, sending the heat through his body, warming him up enough that he was able to move out of the way of mindflayer’s tentacles as it attempted to grab him. He felt slightly dizzy, but there was no time to delay, and now he had his magic at his fingertips he pulled a pre-prepared lightning grenade out of his Armiger and threw it toward the mindflayer as hard as he could.

Streaks of electrical energy shot across the room, a couple hitting his the imps around the mindflayer, knocking them over, and one hitting Ignis squarely in the chest. Noctis immediately warped over to Ignis, supporting him before he also fell to the ground, then warping him out of the blast radius of the grenade. Lightning continued to jump everywhere, but it continually struck the mindflayer, its slimy body apparently being an unusually good conductor of electricity.

Prompto and Gladio had managed to mostly steer clear of the erratic bolts of light, Prompto diving out of the way to let one collide with a group of imps that were almost on him, and Gladio sidestepping as another bolt whipped past his face. Noctis looked down at Ignis, who still looked fairly dazed, and elected to push a potion into his hand before diving back into the fray, hoping he’d be alright while the daemons were focused on the lightning.

Noctis ran full force at the mindflayer, which was still lying limply on the ground after the barrage of lightning had hit it, drawing a polearm out of the Armiger and stabbing deep into its chest. It gave a horrible screech and for a brief moment Noctis thought that would be the last of it, but then it suddenly righted itself, rising through the air, Noctis still hanging on to the spear he’d lodged squarely in its chest. 

It was  _ not _ happy. 

It began making an awful choking, hacking noise and Noctis just had time to launch himself out of the way as it spewed out a cloud of ice, flecked with tiny particles of daemonic miasma, directed right at the place he’d just been standing in. It was clearly only just clinging to life.

With one final push, Noctis warped just behind it and stabbed deeply into its back, his dagger sliding through its soft flesh like butter. It gave one last scream before sinking into the floor.

There were still a few imps left on the battlefield, but fortunately Prompto and Gladio seemed to have the matter well in hand, while Ignis was a bit further back, dealing the final blow to an Arachne. He appeared to have recovered from his shock, which Noctis couldn’t help but feel deeply relieved about. As the last imp sank into the ground, Gladio turned to him.

“Tougher than expected, huh?” he said, and Noctis gave a slightly giddy laugh, still slightly jittery with adrenaline.

“I’m just—glad you’re all okay,” he said, trying to give a reassuring smile.

“‘Course we are,” said Gladio, giving him a playful shove to the shoulder. “Now are we getting that Arm or not?”

“Yeah, come on Noct! I’m gonna pissed if you dragged us all the way through this cave for nothing!” said Prompto, already bounding towards the opening which led to the royal tomb.

“All right, all right, I’m coming,” said Noctis, trying not to smile too hard about the fact that the group dynamic seemed to be coming back together, even in spite of his odd behaviour. When he was in combat he could almost forget about all of the moral and existential problems time travel was causing him and just live in the moment, even if only for a few seconds. He almost dreaded having to emerge from the cave and head back to Lestallum, knowing that only awkward conversations and probably still more exhausting nightmares and flashbacks awaited him. But there was still something he needed to do first, before he could think about that.

Drawing the key from his pocket, Noctis inserted it into the door to the royal tomb and pushed, revealing the impressive coffin lying within. On top of the coffin lay what looked like one long, sleek-looking sword. Noctis knew what he had to do. Ignoring the expressions of wonderment from his companions, he extended his hand over the coffin, reaching out to the weapon with his magic. To his surprise, rather than the solid, almost virulent magic he usually felt extruding from the Royal Arms, he instead only felt a light, fragile presence, almost ghost-like under his fingertips. As he pulled the Swords up he suddenly felt them become almost sharp to the touch, as though his action had excited them and he felt a similar sensation within his own Armiger, from his own Swords of the Wanderer. It was almost like they were…reacting to each other? As the Swords rose higher and higher, for a brief second Noctis felt afraid. What if they reacted badly?

He didn’t have much time to linger on this however, as the Swords abruptly swung down towards him striking him straight through the chest. For a moment, his vision went white and he felt completely numb. Then, all at once, he felt a sudden surge of energy rushing through his body, and his vision began to return. As it did though, he noticed something was very wrong. As he looked down at his body, instead of seeing the tiny floating shards the Swords would usually have left behind, he saw an intense white light at the centre of his chest—which then grew and expanded outwards, illuminating his veins under his skin as he felt an immense power flowing through him. It only lasted a second though, and as he looked up to see all thirteen of the Royal Arms suspended in the space around him, he saw the Swords of the Wanderer spinning wildly and glowing a blinding white. They quickly faded too however, returning once again to their usual pale blue.

As he withdrew the Armiger back into himself, he couldn’t help but feel more than a little panicked over what had just happened. Why had the Swords reacted? Why had he felt that odd surge of energy? What the hell had been that white light that he saw under his skin? Had the others seen it too?

“That was  _ so cool! _ ” cried Prompto, rushing over to him. “How did it feel?”

“Weird,” said Noctis, already turning and beginning to head out of the tomb, all while trying not to let the stress show too much on his face.

“I guess so! That white light made you look kind of freaky though, almost like you were a ghost or something! Ugh,” muttered Prompto, shuddering.

“Oh, you saw that too?” asked Noctis, trying not to sound too desperately hopeful. Not knowing whether he could see the same things as his friends was going to come back and bite him someday soon, he just knew it.

“Uh, yeah, why wouldn’t we?” said Prompto, a little sarcastically, not unlike Iris when she’d commented on his clothing. He bit back the urge to mumble something about how they couldn’t see a lot of things and instead elected merely to sigh dramatically—ending the conversation.

As they traipsed wearily back through the now mostly empty cave, Noctis couldn’t help but be a little grateful for the quiet. His mind was too busy spinning over both his strange moment of clarity and the odd reaction of the Swords for him to maintain a conversation, or even just follow one. That was another thing that was worrying him. He knew he’d never exactly been notorious for having a healthy mental state, but he wasn’t so much of an idiot he couldn’t tell it had gotten, much, much worse since his journey back through time. The only trouble was he had no idea what to do about it. Coping skills had never exactly been his forte and things were only going to get more stressful the longer he was on the run from the Empire. It wasn’t like he could tell anyone what he was going through either, and he simply didn’t have enough energy to maintain the façade he threw up for his friends every day. He needed more time alone, not only to sort through when and where he was, but also so he could have at least some part of the day when he wasn’t having to constantly pretend he was fine.

It felt almost like he was walking along the edge of a knife. He knew Ignis would probably rather die than let him go out daemon-hunting alone again after what’d happened, which was a shame since fighting definitely cleared his head more than anything else. He also knew that he could hardly shut himself away in a hotel room for several hours without at least one of his friends getting worried and checking on him. The other option was to continue as he was, spending time with all of them, and only letting his guard down when they weren’t watching him. Experience had already proven that that would only lead to still more breakdowns on his part though, and he needed them to think he was recovering, or at least  _ mostly  _ alright.

He was still pondering over the dilemma when they emerged out into the sunlight. He was right about it having taken them at least a day to progress through the cave. This appeared to be the trigger for conversation once more.

“Finally!” said Prompto, throwing his hands up in the air before leaning on his knees to try and get his breath back.

“It did take us longer than expected,” said Ignis, glancing up at the sun, still fairly low in the sky.

“At least we got through it,” said Gladio, putting his hands on his hips and trying not to look as winded as the others. He wasn’t entirely succeeding.

“Do you want me to drive back?” asked Noctis, noticing the weariness in his companions and seeing a perfect opportunity to make up for his moment in the cave.

“Are you sure you’re up to it Noct?” asked Ignis, looking at him with ill-disguised concern.

“Positive,” he said, hoping he sounded reassuring. The brief smile from Gladio would suggest he did.

Thankfully the bodies of seadevils that had been prowling the shore earlier appeared to have deterred any other aggressive creatures from taking their place, and getting back to the car was relatively easy. As Noctis strapped himself in however, his thoughts returned to Lestallum, and more importantly, what he would find there. This would be his best chance to change the fate of the world, so, forcing himself to keep that in mind and ignore his previous failures and stumbles, he set out with a new determination, to Lestallum, and to Luna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I really liked writing the fight scenes in this one, it was so...refreshing to add some action in there after so much dialogue, and I'm really excited to be reaching some more Serious Plot Points at last! It feels like some sort of milestone to have Noct get his first Royal Arm at long last, even if he doesn't strictly need it. 
> 
> On a more technical note, how you guys feel about the capitalisation of monster names? My system so far has been capitalising the names of specific creatures like 'Iron Giant' and keeping it lowercase for species like 'imps', but I haven't noticed any kind of convention in place and, I'll be honest, it's kind of driving me nuts. So if any of you have any advice—whether it throws you out of the story or anything, it would be much appreciated! 
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, let me know if you liked it, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	17. The Arrival of the Oracle

When they started out on the journey back to Lestallum, the sun was still low in the sky, and it was pleasantly cool, the atmosphere becoming so soporific that he was fairly sure Prompto had fallen asleep next to him for at least an hour after they set out. He wouldn’t have begrudged Ignis or Gladio doing the same, but also imagined that they wouldn’t want to let him out of their sight after the brief incident in the cavern. As they got closer and closer to Lestallum however, it got hotter, and more uncomfortable, and Noctis could feel himself growing increasingly nervous about what, or more specifically,  _who_ was waiting for him there.

Noctis couldn’t help but be afraid of meeting Luna again. They’d never even spoken face-to-face last time—not for twenty-two years, almost an age ago. Six, was it really that long? He didn’t know how she would react to meeting him so early, he didn’t even know what she was really like, as an adult—only what he could remember of her as a child. Would she even believe him? He wasn’t planning to tell her the whole truth—he wasn’t planning on telling  _anyone_ that, but certainly at least part of it. More than he’d told any of his friends. He tried to shake himself; why was he doubting her? All she’d ever done was help him, and even if the plan had somehow failed, that was hardly her fault.

But worries kept eating away at him, so much so he found himself having to pay extremely close attention to the way he was driving to avoid swerving off the road. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were going white, but he didn’t care; he needed to be as immersed in the moment as possible, even if it meant being in pain. He could see Lestallum rising in the distance, and noticed his arms were beginning to tremble as he got closer.

“Noct, are you sure you want to drive?” asked a voice from behind him. He quickly identified it as Ignis, and fumbled for an answer.

“I’m fine, why?” he asked, not entirely sure whether he wanted Ignis to reply.

“You’re holding the wheel in a death grip...is there something bothering you?”

Noctis had to stop and wonder for a moment whether or not Ignis was deliberately antagonising him—he was obviously worried about seeing Luna again, but that wouldn’t be like him...wait, of course! He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to tell the others about his meeting with Gentiana. For some reason he’d assumed Prompto would bring them up to speed, but that obviously wasn’t the case. Then he remembered why he’d been so reluctant to tell them in the first place; it had happened during the night he was out, and though they’d all reconciled he didn’t know how well they’d take him bringing it up again. Still, he could hardly keep half of the group in the dark—that would only cause even more resentment.

“Um, I’m sorry for not bringing it up sooner,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “but while I was...out, I met up with Gentiana.”

“What? What did she say?” asked Ignis, who thankfully sounded more alarmed than angry.

“She said Luna would arrive at Lestallum soon—to wake the Archaean.”

For a moment there was silence, and Noctis kept his eyes firmly fixed on the road, trying not to think about it might mean. Were they angry at him for keeping it from them for so long?

“Titan, huh? I guess that’ll mean we’ll have some earthquakes coming our way,” said Gladio pensively, breaking both the silence and the tension that had been building in the car.

Noctis almost gave a sigh of relief. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to just have a normal conversation with his friends, without having to constantly stress about how he was coming over, or whether he was saying too much. Gentiana was the perfect excuse for any information he didn’t have last time, and just knowing that made him feel a little lighter.

“Did she say why Lady Lunafreya is doing this?” asked Ignis, probing for more information—information he was happy to give this time.

“Something to do with destiny?” he said, not wanting to appear  _too_ knowledgeable. “Apparently I have to ‘gain the favour of the Six’ to reclaim Insomnia. Probably.”

Ignis sighed wearily at his vague response. Noctis got the feeling if Ignis knew what his real destiny was, he’d be a lot happier about his ignorance.

“So, what do you guys think we’ll have to do to get on Titan’s good side?” asked Prompto, who was definitely awake now. “I suggested destroying the Meteor, but Noct doesn’t think much of it.”

“Hey, I said ‘maybe!’”

“Your tone said everything else buddy,” said Prompto, giving him a smirk.

He elected to roll his eyes.

“So, you knew about this, Prompto?” asked Ignis, a slightly imperious note to his voice that Noctis immediately identified as teasing. Prompto, who hadn’t know Ignis as long as he had, looked a little sheepish.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry Iggy, forgot to mention it,” he said, giving Ignis a nervous smile.

“Perhaps I should give you two some sort of diary, so you can keep track of all the things you ‘forget’ to tell us?” said Ignis, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Noctis had to try fairly hard not to crash the car at that remark, and made a mental note to never,  _ever_ let Ignis even catch a glimpse of his list. Perhaps leaving obvious evidence of his time travel like that hadn’t been the best idea after all. But he  _did_ need it, if only so he could keep his bearings in this new reality.

“Will you please be more careful Noct!” cried Ignis, clearly noticing his mishap.

“He’s got his mind on other things...like Lady Lunafreya,” said Gladio, and Noctis could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Can it!” he grumbled.

Gladio was right, of course, but not for the reasons he was thinking. Thankfully  _that_ conversation was brought to a swift close as they finally reached the city.

The crowd of people was immense. Even as Noctis drove down the main street just outside the city, he could see the masses of people gathered around the city square, spilling out along the pavement, all of them waiting, all of them desperate to see the Oracle, to just catch a glimpse of her. Noctis was trembling as he parked the car, and it was only when he got out of it that the full impact of what he was about to try to do hit him. The last time he’d been this terrified was when he was facing down Ardyn in the ruins of Insomnia.

“I guess we know she’s here then,” said Prompto, glancing back up at the crowd which was still growing above them as more and more people heard of the Oracle’s arrival.

“Yeah,” gasped Noctis, unable to keep his voice from shaking. This was an anxiety the others would understand however, and thankfully all he saw was a mixture of pity and bemusement in their eyes.

“You don’t  _have_ to see her now you know,” said Gladio, a touch of laughter in his voice at how utterly blindsided Noctis probably seemed.

“No!” he said quickly—probably too quickly, but he didn’t care. He had to warn her. He  _couldn’t_ let her die. “It has to be now.”

“Hey, hold your horses loverboy!” Prompto called out, but he wasn’t listening.

He was already jogging up towards the crowd of people, the urgency of his task hitting him all at once, drowning out the voices of his companions as he waded through the crowd. As he did this, however, he remembered how lost he’d been just seeing Ardyn again, how overwhelmed he’d felt by his presence—knowing what he was going to do. He couldn’t allow the same thing to happen here. He couldn’t let himself get lost in the past. There were more people here than there had been at Altissia, he was sure of it, and as gently pushed his way forward, he tried to focus himself on the unique atmosphere of Lestallum.

The buildings towered high above him, their dirty, efficient build entirely unlike the elaborate, artistic architecture of Altissia, the people all ecstatic and happy, without the slight traces of fear that permeated the crowd back then. Even in spite of the stark differences, he still felt the atmosphere around him shifting and changing. He remembered waiting for Luna’s address before the throng of people, he remembered her standing tall between two white columns and announcing the end of the world. He remembered her meeting his eyes, and smiling, and how in that moment, that singular moment, he’d actually believed they could save the world.

He felt himself buffeted by a thousand bodies—he was now in the middle of the crowd, and he had no memory of how he’d gotten there. As he looked up though, he saw a platform, raised slightly above the hordes of people, and on the platform, looking out over the crowd, stood Luna.

She was exactly as he remembered her, white clothes, hair tied back and wearing a dignified smile that almost never left her face. As she scanned the crowd, he wasn’t especially hopeful that she would notice him, not among the thousands that had appeared to see her, and seek healing. And that was what she was doing, he realised, as a young boy was carried up onto the platform at her bidding, and a man, presumably the boy’s father, looked up at her with desperation. She gave him a nod of reassurance and said something, before turning her gaze to the boy lying before her. In one fluid motion, she lifted the boy’s head to her own, holding it gently in both hands, and a golden light seemed to emanate from within her, the darkness that had begun to creep into the boy’s flesh appearing to recoil and fade at her touch.

A slight murmur ran through the crowd, even though they must have seen several such healings by now. Noctis himself was slightly stunned by this display. He’d never seen the Oracle’s magic at work before, well, not from an outsider’s perspective anyway. It was almost as though the Starscourge flinched away from her magic, and Noctis couldn’t help but remember Ardyn’s last conversation with him before he was trapped in the crystal, in which he’d implied that the way to cure the Starscourge was to take it into himself. Luna’s powers seemed to work in direct opposition to this, perhaps the Six having seen fit not to make the same mistake as they did with Ardyn.

As the boy was carried back off the platform however, his father thanking Luna profusely, she looked back out over the crowd once more, and this time, she saw him. He felt himself tense up instinctually at the eye contact, and for one brief moment Altissia rose up around him once more, the image only growing stronger as she gave him an almost imperceptible smile, promising him that everything was going to be alright without even speaking a word. As he smelt the salt in the air however, the memory of Leviathan rose up, stronger than that of Luna, reminding him that this was wrong, and that he wasn’t in Altissia. Not yet.

He needed to warn her, to find some way of speaking with her, in person. It would be difficult, and he certainly couldn’t do it with this immense crowd of people swarming from every side. He looked back at her once again, hoping that he’d be able to convey some message with his eyes, as hopeless as that seemed. As he looked, however, and another person, an elderly woman this time, was being helped up onto the platform, it was like the world went briefly out of focus, and when Noctis came back to himself he was no longer in Lestallum.

He was back in Altissia again, and it was the day Leviathan was going to be awakened. He knew, intellectually, that this wasn’t real, and that he was really still in Lestallum, still looking up at Luna on her platform. But the image was so clear, and it felt so disturbingly real, that he almost couldn’t help trying to get closer to her, to warn her before it was too late. As he pushed his way through the crowd he felt himself become lighter, like his limbs were moving too quickly, and before he could even understand what was happening, he’d fallen to the ground. There were no longer white buildings surrounding him, the grey architecture of Lestallum was all around him once more. He heard an intense buzzing in his ears, drowning out the voices from above him, and his last thought before fading from consciousness was that, for now at least, he would get to see Luna again.

* * *

 This time, when he awoke, he instantly knew he was still dreaming. Darkness seemed to close in on him from all sides, and he felt almost as though he was swimming in a thick layer of black fog. As he got to his feet, the darkness around him was so oppressive he could only vaguely make out his hand right in front of his face, let alone the rest of his body. This wasn’t the usual darkness in the world of ruin he’d left behind, this was something far more intense—far more powerful. It reminded him of the darkness behind the blockade in the ruins of Lestallum, he remembered how it had seemed to watch him, as though it were waiting for him. Back then he’d found it incredibly unnerving, and felt an intense need to  _get away_ from it. But now, as it surrounded him from all sides, he felt nothing, no alarm, no fear—  _nothing._

It was almost as though just being in the darkness fogged up his brain, making it difficult to think straight. He began to walk blindly ahead, with no source of light to guide him, just putting one foot in front of the other. As he walked, there seemed to be patches where the black fog was thinner than in the surrounding areas, and whenever he passed through them, he got the sudden and almost overwhelming sensation that he was forgetting something important. As soon as he entered the thicker patches however, the feeling faded instantly, disappearing so quickly he almost thought he might have imagined it. He continued like that for a while, and was a little unnerved about how strangely… _peaceful_ everything seemed. This was the first dream he’d had that was so utterly devoid of…well, anything.

And it would have been extremely restful, if he didn’t keep on getting that strange sensation in the back of his mind. He knew there was something he’d forgotten, but it was almost as though he was content not knowing what it was. It was so easy to just stand there and let the darkness surround him in an impenetrable shell. As though it were protecting him somehow. But what was it protecting him from? He couldn’t remember…he couldn’t remember anything, and wasn’t that  _wrong_ in some way? He should be remembering it, it was important, he  _knew_ it was important, but what was it? He couldn’t just stand around in the darkness and let himself forget!

At almost exactly the moment Noctis began to think this, the darkness seemed to very suddenly shift and change, and it definitely wasn’t comforting anymore. Noctis hadn’t noticed before how deeply disorienting it was to be unable to see most of his body, but now he was intensely, acutely aware of it. That would have been uncomfortable enough if he hadn’t suddenly begun to feel almost as though he was being suffocated by inky blackness all around him. It was drowning him, filling up his lungs and making it almost impossible to breathe. He flailed wildly at the fog, trying to get rid of it. But nothing seemed to work—if anything his attempts to fight it were only making things worse as he tried desperately to fight for air. He could feel his thoughts growing cloudier and slower as the darkness consumed him, and he couldn’t even tell whether or not his vision was fading—so impenetrable was the darkness in front of him. Just as he could feel his consciousness fading away into nothing, there was suddenly a bright light from all around him. The dream shattered, and he woke up.

* * *

 When he opened his eyes the first thing he noticed was that the upper half of his body was now very cold and very wet. The second thing he noticed was that Luna was looking down at him with a combination of concern and what seemed to be mild embarrassment. The third thing he noticed was that she was holding a glass in her hand that had obviously contained a fair amount of water until relatively recently. It didn’t take him long to realise what must have happened. He had to admit that it wasn’t how he’d imagined their first face-to-face meeting would have gone, but it was still markedly better than the alternative, and he chose to cling to that thought as he pushed himself up from where he had been lying.

It took him a moment to realise where he was. He’d been moved from the crowded market centre and onto something akin to a hospital bed, in what appeared to be a rather large tent. All around him were beds just like his, and on them lay people in various states of disrepair, presumably these were the people too ill to come to the Oracle under their own power, or who’d collapsed in the crowd before reaching her, like him. He hadn’t seen this tent when he’d entered Lestallum, or when he was making his way through the crowd to see Luna, which left him a little bewildered. He was just wondering how precisely he’d managed to miss something so big when Luna began to speak.

“I’m so sorry Noctis, but I didn’t know what else to do,” she said, placing the glass by the side of his bed and smiling at him imploringly.

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, not wanting yet another person to feel awkward around him. “I’ve been having some pretty bad nightmares recently, so I guess I can understand.”

It felt strange to be able to speak to her so casually, over something so mundane. Perhaps it was that they hadn’t spoken in so long, but he felt as though finally being able to talk to her would be some momentous occasion. Not that it wasn’t, only, it felt so much...easier than he’d thought it would. Luna had no expectations of him. She’d never met him in person up until this point—she wouldn’t notice if he was acting differently from ‘usual’ and just knowing that made everything so much easier he almost felt his soul beginning to lift of its own accord.

“I suppose I should be relieved,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile, before becoming more serious. “But still, you did faint in that crowd Noctis, and though I’ve already determined you are free of the Starscourge, I can’t help but worry what caused it.”

“You and everyone else,” murmured Noctis, allowing a touch of laughter into his voice before sobering himself.

Luna stared hard at him for a moment, frowning slightly, as though thinking hard about something, before reaching down into her pocket and drawing something out of it. Her hand was clenched so tightly around whatever it was that he couldn’t even see it properly.

“Noctis…” she said, and then sighed, as though she was steeling herself to speak. “There’s something I need to give you, before you go.”

Suddenly he remembered exactly what it was she wanted to give him. He already had it, of course, but he still remembered how he got it last time. He remembered her smiling at him as he floated further and further away from her, trying desperately to swim against the current, trying to reach her before she faded away.

She opened her palm to reveal the Ring of the Lucii. How many had died for it reach him? Too many. But he reached out to grasp it anyway—the least he could do was honour their sacrifices. As he touched it, he looked up at Luna, and she smiled at him; a sad, subdued smile. He smiled back, and suspected that to anyone that might be looking at them, their expressions probably matched. But there was still something he needed to do, and he stowed the Ring in his pocket, he knew this was the moment he’d been waiting for.

“Listen, Luna, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t tell you here, not with all these people about,” he said, glancing at the numerous beds in the tent. “It has to do with why I collapsed earlier, and I can’t tell anyone else, so please,” he said placing his hand over hers in a pleading gesture, “can you meet me at the balcony overlooking the city later? No one’s ever there in the evening. I just—I don’t think there’s anyone else I can trust with this.”

She looked at him for a moment after he said this, and in her eyes he could see the toll that living in the Empire had taken on her. She was internally assessing the situation, possibly even wondering if it was a trap, and he couldn’t blame her, he  _was_ acting suspiciously, but he still hoped beyond all hope she would believe him. After a tense moment of waiting however, her expression softened, and he guessed that he’d somehow managed to convince her he wasn’t trying to trick her. Then again, he was currently lying on a hospital bed, drenched with water after having fainted in a crowd of people for seemingly no reason, so he was probably the least threatening looking person on the star right about then.

“Alright. I will meet you there this evening Noctis,” she said, smiling again. “But what are you going to do now? Will you be alright?”

“I think I’ll be fine,” he said, returning her smile, attempting to reassure her. “They’re usually fairly far apart—when I pass out, I mean.”

“I see,” she said, frowning, though Noctis guessed this was more due to worry than any anger she felt towards him. “Well, I cannot make you stay here Noctis, but if you find yourself unwell once more, then know that this tent will likely be here until I leave.”

“Thank you, Luna,” he said, and she smiled at him once more, before rising from where she was sitting on the side of the bed and walking towards her next patient.

Noctis swung his legs over the side of the bed, and though he wasn’t quite used to the sensation of standing, he rose without stumbling, looking for a way out of the tent. There was an exit just over to the right, and he made his way over to it, but before he left he took one last look at Luna. She was bent over a young woman with arms that were almost entirely black, completely caught up in healing her. Noctis couldn’t help but try to imprint the moment on his mind. Even though he’d arranged to meet her later, even though he knew, logically, that it was very unlikely that anything would happen to her in the time between then and the evening, he couldn’t help but feel that this was his last chance to see her. She rose from her seat once more, the woman was now awake, and the moment had passed. With one last glance, Noctis finally turned away from her and emerged out of the tent, into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, I cannot tell you guys how excited I was to write this chapter! Luna's one of my favourite characters, so I was really psyched to finally be writing her, and her interactions with Noctis were so fun to write! It was also really interesting to write about how people would react to her in Lestallum, and you cannot pay me to believe that they didn't make a big deal out of it, especially since pretty much everyone thought she was dead. It does present an interesting conundrum though, since the Empire is definitely looking for her, so I imagine the people of Lucis must have been protecting her.
> 
> On another, entirely unrelated note: I've been writing way too much from Noctis's point of view—case in point, I, like him, totally forgot that the Ring of the Lucii was a Thing he needed to get, and forgot to add it in until, like, my third edit—oops.
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter and let me know if you liked it!


	18. Continuing Confrontations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this is your pre-warning that stuff gets dark and potentially triggery in this chapter. There's reference to previous self-harm throughout the chapter and deliberate starvation. There's also some suicidal thoughts starting with the paragraph beginning "In an attempt to clear his head," and ending at the start of the paragraph beginning, "He needed a moment to calm down," so all of you take care of yourselves!

It was so bright outside the tent, for a moment he was completely blinded by the light. By the time his eyes adjusted however, he didn’t have long to look around, because he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Hey! There he is!”

For a moment, every instinct Noctis had was telling him to run from the voice as quickly as he possibly could. He recognised it’s owner, however, and tried to push the urge away as he turned to face Prompto, who was running towards him. He spotted Ignis and Gladio not far behind him, but didn’t have much time to say anything before his breath was knocked out of him, and he was pulled into a tight hug. He was quickly released however, when Prompto realised he was still drenched with water.

“Ugh, why are you all wet?” he asked, shaking his hands in an attempt to dislodge the water.

“I, um…” said Noctis, unsure of whether he should mention his collapse so soon after his last fainting fit.

“Noctis,” said Ignis, having finally caught up with Prompto. “Why were you in the healing tent? And why do you look like you’ve dipped your head in the fountain?”

Ignis was giving him a disapproving stare and Noctis got the impression that if he hadn’t looked quite so pathetic at that moment Ignis would have been a lot harsher with him. He also suspected that Ignis already knew the answer as to why he’d been in the healing tent, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try and salvage this situation.

“I, um...fell?” he said, wracking his brains to try and think of a reason why he’d be covered in water that didn’t involve being splashed by it because of a nightmare.

“You fell?” asked Gladio, who looked distinctly unimpressed with his excuse. “And I suppose that explains why you went missing for, what, five hours?”

Noctis noticed that Gladio seemed a lot less angry than he’d expected him to be, though he had no idea why. More than anything else he just looked...disappointed, and it stung Noctis a little that he appeared so calm about it. He didn’t answer though. He wanted to, he really did, but it was like he simply couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and speak—he just couldn’t form the words in his head.

“When did you pass out Noct? Please, there’s no other reason for you to have been in there,” asked Ignis tiredly, and Noctis felt himself bristling at his almost exasperated tone. 

It wasn’t  _ his _ fault he kept on having traumatic flashbacks so bad they were making him pass out. And even more infuriating was that he couldn’t even explain it to the others, lest he appear even more unstable than they already thought he was. Besides, he’d promised himself he couldn’t let them worry about him like this anymore, but with the way Ignis was staring accusatorily at him, he felt as though he’d already failed. Why did everything keep going wrong?

“I fainted while Luna was healing people,” he said quietly, and he was surprised by how much anger he’d let into his voice. “She had to throw water on me to get me to wake up, that’s why I’m wet. But it’s fine—she said there was nothing wrong with me.”

Ignis sighed slightly at his reply and Noctis had to push down the rage rapidly forming in his chest before it consumed him. He felt exhausted after everything that had happened to him, and being passive-aggressively confronted over something else he’d managed to screw up, yet again, was utterly infuriating him.

“When was the last time you ate, Noctis?” asked Ignis with an edge to his voice, and a slightly menacing look in his eye.

Noctis had to put in a not inconsiderable effort to stop himself from practically growling at this question. He knew what had made him pass out—an inconvenient flashback, not a lack of food. But at the same time, he also knew that he hadn’t eaten since getting that yoghurt with Prompto, and _he_ knew that  _ Ignis _ knew this, because  _ none _ of them had eaten while chasing after the Swords of the Wanderer. He also knew that, logically, he should be happy to have an excuse not to mention the real reason he’d passed out, but he was so,  _ so _ tired of being blamed for issues he couldn’t fix, or didn’t even realise were there, that he just  _ couldn’t. _

“A while ago—but you already knew that, didn’t you?” he said, and he hadn’t quite intended to sound so tired and severe when he said it, but when he did he felt almost relieved. He’d been trying so hard to pretend everything was fine, he felt like his mind was constantly clouded with smoke, but he just couldn’t keep up with it anymore. Something had to give.

“Noctis…” murmured Ignis, with a quiet sigh.

“We  _ all _ missed dinner and breakfast because of the Royal Arm,” said Noctis, now beginning to get truly annoyed, all his frustrations starting to pour out of him. “I don’t see why this is a shock to you! Or why it’s even such a big deal!”

“None of  _ us _ had starved ourselves for three days prior, Noctis!” yelled Ignis, and it was the first time in a long time that Noctis had seen him so emotional. “None of  _ us _ have been fainting once a day for the past few days either. We’re  _ worried _ about you. Things can’t keep on like this. I— _ we _ need to know what’s wrong, so we can fix this. I can’t allow you to continue on like this in good conscience until I  _ know _ you’re going to be alright.”

The longer Ignis spoke, and the more obvious it became to Noctis how upset he was by what had happened, the more Noctis could feel his anger shifting and redirecting itself right back at him. By the time Ignis had finished, almost all of the rage he’d been experiencing was now rebounding around his skull as debilitating guilt and Noctis couldn’t even bring himself to look at him. All of this was his fault—all of it.

“Noct please, at least have something now, to stop you from fainting again,” said Ignis, almost pleading with him.

He hated seeing them so worried about him, and he hated that he was the one who’d caused it. The combination of guilt and rage rising up inside him was now painfully familiar, and he could feel his arm itching fiercely. He needed to get out of there. Pointedly pulling a cereal bar from his Armiger, he began to march off towards the edge of the city, ignoring Gladio calling out after him. As he walked angrily through the streets of Lestallum he debated furiously with himself whether to just take the Regalia and go, not coming back until the evening. After much deliberation, and several wrong turns, he eventually decided not to, if only because he  _ did _ want to reconcile with his friends later, and if he did take the car he was fairly sure they’d never speak to him again.

When he reached the viewing platform he no longer felt the urge to scratch his arm, but was still furious with himself for letting the situation escalate like that. He looked down at cereal bar in his hand, and with an inordinate amount of anger, threw it into a nearby bin. He didn’t deserve to eat after letting himself get so worked up, only worrying the others further when he’d promised himself he wouldn’t. He could feel his emotions like whirlwind inside him, and almost wanted to start weeping into his hands—why did everything keep going wrong?

In an attempt to clear his head, he walked up to the wall between him and a plunge straight down into Taelpar Crag, and for a moment all he could think about was how easy it would be to just climb over and jump. It wouldn’t even matter.

No, wait, what was he thinking?

He staggered away from the edge, alarmed by the direction his thoughts were taking him in. But now he’d thought of it he couldn’t get the idea out of his head. It would be so easy, and no one would ever find him. He could just escape from everything—all of his mistakes would be undone. But even as he thought of this he could hear a voice in the back of his head reminding him how many people would die if he disappeared now—he had a duty to them, and Eos itself. He couldn’t allow simple selfishness to prevent him from ending the Starscourge. He sat back down on the bench shivering slightly, even though it was uncomfortably warm. It’d been a long time since he felt so ready to die.

He needed a moment to calm down. As he sat and just watched as people walked by though, he noticed he was getting a few strange looks. That was unusual in Lestallum—almost no one knew he was a king there, if in name only. After pondering for a few moments he realised the looks were less due to his identity, and more due to what he was wearing—namely his shirt, which was still soaking after being drenched with water. That might also be contributing to why he felt himself shivering so badly.

He could hardly just sit around looking as though he’d fallen head-first into a pond for the rest of the day either, but he was deeply reluctant to go back to the Leville, where he suspected his friends would be waiting for him. For a moment he seriously considered just buying a new shirt from the nearest shop, but doubted they’d serve him while he looked like such a mess. Sighing to himself and rising slowly from the bench, he decided to head back over to the hotel, if only because of how cold it was starting to get outside. If he ran into the others he’d deal with the situation as it played out.

* * *

 

By the time he reached the hotel, it was around six o’clock. The foyer was bustling with people, all of them either coming to check-in for the evening or eat their dinner in the restaurant, and Noctis was a little surprised by the crowd. There was one small comfort to be found in the crush of people however, and that was that he probably wouldn’t be spotted by his friends—assuming they were even looking for him. Pushing his way through the people in the foyer, he decided to take the stairs to the room, the uncomfortable memory of his last elevator ride looming large in the back of his mind. 

When he reached Room 243 he hesitated a moment before opening the door. He knew that, logically, it would be foolish of him to have come all the way to the room only to get cold feet at the last moment, but the prospect of another confrontation was enough to freeze him in place for a solid minute. Eventually he forced himself to reach out to the doorknob and turn it, and found, much to his horror, that it was already unlocked. He hadn’t really considered on his journey there that he wouldn’t be able to enter the room without a keycard, but he remembered at almost the exact instant he felt the door creak open, and with a sense of dread, opened the door all the way. 

Gladio was sitting on the edge of the bed, otherwise completely alone in the room, and when he heard the door creak open he looked up at it, and at Noctis who had now entered. Noctis almost wanted to make an excuse and leave before Gladio could yell at him again, which was surely what he wanted to do, but before he could say anything, Gladio spoke. 

“You look like a complete wreck,” he said, and Noctis wasn’t entirely sure whether or not he was joking until Gladio smiled at him. 

Noctis nervously smiled back, not having expected their conversation to have started quite so...jovially.

“I came back to change my shirt…” he said awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to expect from Gladio now. He almost wished he  _ was _ shouting at him, if only because then he’d know how to react. 

“Sounds like a smart idea to me, you’ll catch a cold if you don’t,” said Gladio, and Noctis decided to pretend to look through his bag for his clothes while he planned what he was going to do. 

He knew that all of his clothing was currently located safely in the Armiger, but he wanted some sort of distraction in an effort to appear slightly less awkward about the situation. What could Gladio possibly want? Not to shout at him, apparently, and Noctis almost felt ashamed that he couldn’t think of anything else Gladio would want from him at that moment. Hadn’t they been friends once? Why did he feel so disconnected? So alone? He couldn’t think of anything to say. 

Gladio was the one who initiated conversation.

“Noct, listen, I know you’ve been having a rough time lately...” he began, and Noctis instinctively felt his heart sink at the prospect that they were going to have to talk about his ‘issues’ yet again.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, not particularly wanting to continue the conversation.

Gladio hesitated before continuing, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. Noctis didn’t think he’d ever seen Gladio quite so...cowed before.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is, I know you don’t feel comfortable talking to any of us about what’s bothering you,” he said, now looking directly at Noctis. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t...less than happy about that, but I do know that we can’t keep on like this. It’s too much stress on us, having to worry about you, and I imagine it’s also a lot of stress on you. So what I’m getting at, is, is there anyone else you want to talk about this stuff with? Just so  _ we _ know you’ll be okay?” 

Noctis had to take a moment to sit dumbstruck at this. He’d been expecting anger, or blame or, really, anything but this. He realised, a moment after he’d managed to process it, that Gladio was actually suggesting exactly what had suggested in the car on the way to the waterfall—that Noctis get ‘a doctor or a therapist or  _ something, _ ’ albeit, in a much more gentle manner. It wasn’t a bad idea, all things considered. Obviously he couldn’t get a real therapist, that would definitely put them in danger, but it was certainly true that he was experiencing an extreme amount of stress due to having to hide everything from them. If he just had someone he could talk to—but of course, hadn’t he arranged to do that already?

“I, um, thanks for the advice,” he began, a little tentatively, not entirely sure how he would take the news. “But when Luna woke me, I, uh, I arranged to see her on the viewing platform this evening. I wanted to talk to her about...stuff.” 

To his surprise, Gladio just laughed at this. 

“I guess I should’ve known you’d want to talk to her about it,” he said, still chuckling, and Noctis sorely wanted to roll his eyes because he  _ knew _ he wasn’t in love with her. 

But he also knew that he had absolutely no hope of convincing anyone else of that, so he elected to keep his mouth shut. 

“If that’s the case though you should probably start heading down there now, it’s getting late.” 

“That’s it?” asked Noctis, in spite of himself. 

“That’s what?”

“What—just, nothing?” he asked, and he was angry now, frustrated at how his friends seemed to be able to completely reverse how they felt about him within the space of a few hours. The dissonance was both irritating and almost impossible for him to keep track of, his thoughts all in a blur.  “No shouting about how I’m tearing the team apart, no being angry about how I fainted again—about how I’ve upset everyone? I don’t—what’s going on here?” 

Gladio looked at him with something like pity before sighing again and becoming serious. 

“Listen, Noct, I know I’ve been hard on you,” he said, and Noctis slumped against the wall in exasperation. “I didn’t understand why you were acting so strangely and putting yourself in danger, and if I’m honest I still don’t. But when you vanished, I guessed you’d fainted again. And it’s not ideal, but you weren’t going to die from it, and so long as I know that I’m fine. I can’t speak for the others, and they have every right to be upset, but if this is going to be a thing from now on, I intend to be ready for it.” 

Noctis stared at Gladio for one long, hard moment, trying to assess the situation in his head. It just didn’t work for him somehow, almost as though what Gladio was saying didn’t make sense. He should be happy that he wasn’t angry with him anymore, but he wasn’t, and he didn’t know why. It was as though something was off somehow. He tried to shake himself. When had he stopped trusting Gladio? It wasn’t fair for him to continue to be resentful when Gladio was clearly doing his best to deal with the situation as well as he could.

“I...see. Thank you, Gladio. I really appreciate it,” he said, and tried to sound like he meant it. As he began to turn towards the door into the bathroom however, Gladio called out to him one last time. 

“Hey Noct?” he asked, and his voice was a little more serious this time. “One last thing: once you talk to Lady Lunafreya, go and speak to Ignis will you? Because I think he needs more reassurance than me that you’re going to be fine.”

“Sure,” said Noctis, trying not to think too hard about how Ignis must be feeling, with him having stormed off like that. That promised to be yet another difficult conversation. He decided not to linger too much on it for now though, as he closed the door behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof what a chapter, huh? This was one of those moments when the characters wrenched control of my story from me and decided act on their own. This time it was getting into Ignis's head and working out what he was thinking that caused this little fiasco. Knowing he has no way of controlling Noctis's strange behaviour and troubling collapses is starting to really, really get to him—hence his outburst. For Ignis, few things are worse than feeling helpless, particularly when it comes to things hurting Noctis—so this entire situation is starting to become unbearable for him, poor thing. 
> 
> The next chapter contains more Luna (hooray, an actual conversation!) and will definitely be a bit more light-hearted, so I'll see you all then!
> 
> As with every chapter, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed it and if so, let me know!


	19. Dreams of the Future

It was around seven o’clock when he finally got back down to the viewing platform, and night was falling rapidly, the sky streaked with red, and darkness looming above. There was a chill wind in the air again, and Noctis pulled his jacket slightly tighter around him as the stairs came into view. He was still nervous about meeting Luna, in spite of how well their last interaction had gone. Well, he _had_ fainted. That wasn’t great. But they’d been able to talk so easily, and Noctis was almost scared that the brief camaraderie they’d shared was exactly that—brief, and that when he met her again things would be different.

She was already waiting for him when he reached the platform, sitting on a bench, having changed out of her white dress and into a blue jacket and long trousers; presumably to avoid being recognised. When he approached she turned and smiled at him, and all at once he felt all his fears of awkwardness and pain fall away. For once, he knew exactly what he had to do.

“Hi Luna,” he said, returning her smile as he sat down next to her.

“Hello Noctis,” she said, and there was a touch of laughter in her voice. “I see you’ve managed to dry out.”

“Yes,” he said with a laugh, and there was a moment of silence after that, as Noctis tried to capture the moment in his mind.

He hadn’t felt so...carefree in such a long time, he almost didn’t want to tell her about what’d happened. This would be the only time they had to just be...themselves, in front of one another. And it was strange to think that, given that they hadn’t even _spoken_ last time, that they’d met twice now and each time it had seemed so normal. But he knew he had to tell her, for the sake of the star and everyone living on it. A lot was riding on this moment, and he had to get it right.

“There’s something I want to tell you,” he said, not knowing quite else how to begin.

“Yes, you said; it was about your collapse earlier, wasn’t it?” asked Luna, all traces of levity now gone.

“Well, partially,” he began, thinking about how he was going to tell her, he had it all planned out in his head—all she had to do was believe him. “Listen, Luna, recently I’ve been having these...dreams.”

“Dreams?” she asked, frowning slightly.

“Yeah, but not normal dreams, it’s almost like...I’m going to sound crazy saying this, but, it’s like I can see into the future.”

“You mean prophetic dreams?” she asked clasping her hands together in her lap, as though tensing for something, and Noctis was a little relieved she’d taken it so well.

He took a deep breath—this was the moment.

“Perhaps,” he said, deciding to start with something small. “Listen, Luna, the night before Insomnia fell, I saw it, in my dreams. I saw the peace signing blow up, I saw daemons raining down fire from the sky, and I saw—I saw my dad…”

His voice was trembling by the end, even though he hadn’t known exactly how it happened, only ever having heard second-hand accounts from terrified refugees. But what scared him was how distant it seemed to him now. More than ten years ago, almost an age ago, and to know the devastation it had caused. If he’d remembered sooner, could he have prevented it? No, he couldn’t think about it like that. It would only make him miserable.

“I am sorry, Noctis,” said Luna, reaching out a hand to him, and looking at him sympathetically. “That must have been terrible for you.”

“Terrible for _me?_ ” he asked, nervous laughter in his voice, because he remembered Luna’s part in all of it as well. “You were in the city when it fell, if it was terrible for _anyone_ —and you saw it too, didn’t you? You saw him?”

Luna sighed at his words and withdrew her hand, and with it, herself. For a moment, Noctis was afraid he’d offended her, but then she began to speak.

“I did,” she said, her voice now quiet, and tired. It was the first time he’d heard her sound tired. “And it was _horrible._ I won’t lie to you Noctis, you deserve better than that. But I did my duty. And I take some small comfort in that.”

She was still looking down at her hands, as though all the secrets to the universe lay there, and Noctis could see that she had clenched her fists. Sharing that with him must have been difficult for her. Luna had never been someone to reveal weakness in front of others, desperate to hold the image of the Oracle as the strength of Eos, even in the darkest of times. But she was human, just like him, and it warmed him that she trusted him with her feelings like that. And, of course, he trusted her with his dreams.

“Of course,” he said, trying his best to sound comforting for once. “I know you did everything you could, and I didn’t mean to remind you of such a difficult time.”

“It’s fine,” she said, with a small, sad laugh. “It’s over now. But you say you saw all of this in your dreams?”

“Yes,” said Noctis, almost relieved the conversation had turned back to a slightly more familiar topic. “When I read in the newspaper about it—I honestly thought I was still dreaming.”

“I can imagine…” she murmured, looking off into the distance, out to the Disc of Cauthess.

“But that’s not all that’s happened,” said Noctis, now looking at Luna directly, drawing her attention back to him. “The reason I wanted to speak to you is that I’ve had other dreams like that since. I’ve seen a lot of things in them—most of them haven’t been...great. But the one I wanted to tell you about...listen, I saw you heal people, forge the covenants with the Astrals, but then…”

He almost couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. But this was his moment. This was his opportunity. And it was the only one he had. He _had_ to do this.

“...then I saw you die.”

As he looked at Luna in that moment, he felt the world seem to freeze around him. It was as though he was looking at her moving in slow motion, the way she blinked suddenly, and seemed to flinch at his words as though he’d inflicted a physical blow on her. He saw it all, all with that same odd, intense clarity he’d experienced in his conversation with Prompto. Then she relaxed, and smiled. But when she turned to him, she had tears in her eyes.

“Noctis,” she said, then paused, as though trying to find the right words. “I’ve always known the price of the covenants. That there was always the risk that they would kill me, but to know for certain—I—” she was wracked with a sob and put her hand to her mouth, trying to steady herself.

Noctis reached out to help her, but she pushed his hand away, so, in a ritual that was starting to become commonplace to him, he grabbed some tissues out of the Armiger and offered them to her. She took them gratefully, and wiped at her eyes, trying to get her breathing back under control.

“Luna, listen,” he said, trying to comfort her a little. “It wasn’t the covenants that killed you in my dream. It was Ardyn. He’s the one who caused all this.”

She seemed to ponder this information for a moment and then came to a sudden realisation, looking at him with an expression of horror.

“You...know?” she asked, and for a moment, Noctis wondered what she was talking about.

“Know what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

A smile of such utter relief passed over her face at his words he wasn’t quite sure what to do. What was going on?

“It’s fine, I was worried...no, nevermind, it doesn’t matter now. You said it was Ardyn who killed me? The Chancellor?” she asked, now frowning, and she seemed genuinely confused, which was strange, since Noctis already knew that she was aware of Ardyn’s true identity.

“Yes,” he said, not wanting to give away his own knowledge on the subject quite yet—there were eyes and ears everywhere.  

“Hmm,” she said, clearly mulling the matter over in her mind.

Personally, Noctis didn’t know what there _was_ to mull over. If Luna knew who Ardyn was, and he was sure she did, then she must already know his motivation for killing her and everyone else on the planet; spite. There was nothing more to it than that, a desire to see Noctis suffer at his hands, an act of vengeance nearly two thousand years too late. But Luna seemed to be considering something else.

“Did anything seem to provoke his attack?” she asked, looking at him once more.

“Uh…” he said, unsure of how to continue.

How should he answer? Up until that moment, as far as he was concerned, Ardyn’s murder of Luna had been motivated by nothing but personal satisfaction. But he cast his mind back, just to be sure. It had been during the summoning of Leviathan, who didn’t want to make a covenant with him anyway. What could Ardyn possibly have gained by killing Luna? He hadn’t been attempting to interrupt the ceremony—he _wanted_ Noctis to gain the favour of the gods. So what could it have been?

“It was when you forged the covenant with Leviathan…”

“I see,” she said, her voice still slightly distant. “The last of the covenants.”

“Both Bahamut and Ifrit are already awake, right?”

“Yes, so there would be no need for me after that,” she said, and Noctis almost flinched when she said it. How could she think that?

“Don’t say things like that,” he said, and he could hear his voice trembling slightly. He couldn’t let this happen. “You’re far more important than me—you can heal people, set up the havens—people believe in you. You’re their hope. And I don’t want you to die for me. No one should have to die for me. Especially not you.”

“Oh Noctis,” she said, bowing her head, and there were tears in her eyes again. “If only it were that simple.”

“Why _can’t_ it be?” he asked, frustrated by the winding path of destiny. “If there needs to be a sacrifice to save the star, then why can’t it just be me? Why does everyone insist on throwing themselves in harm’s way for me? I can do that just fine by myself. No one else has to die.”

Luna looked hard at him for a second, and there was something like pity in her eyes, but no, something deeper than that, a great sympathy, and a kind of distant pain. As though it hurt her to hear him say such things. It probably did, more than it hurt him, at any rate. He knew that Luna still had a chance to live, to fulfil her role as Oracle, to have a long and happy life. She deserved that. But his fate had always been something different, and he was at peace with that now—too much so—some would say. But in spite of their differing destinies, and Luna’s willingness to die for his sake, he wouldn’t allow it to happen. She would live this time. He’d make sure of it.

“Do not be so willing to throw your life away Noctis,” she said, and now she just sounded tired. “I have no doubt the demands of the gods will be great, but neither of us need make the final sacrifice just yet.”

“Now there’s a sentiment I agree with,” he said, giving a half-hearted laugh, painfully aware that ‘the final sacrifice’ may be looming far closer on the horizon than she realised.

Luna gave a short laugh in response, and Noctis was nevertheless still glad that they could still have some happiness, even as the darkness rapidly set in.

“I’ve just realised,” said Luna, sitting up suddenly, “I assumed that you already knew, but you _do_ know what’s happening to this star Noctis? Why I must forge the covenants?”

“The Starscourge will consume everything otherwise? That’s kind of the impression I got, anyway,” he said, deciding to err on the side of caution.

“Indeed, it is spreading at a heretofore unprecedented rate,” she said, now frowning deeply. “Even during the years where there was no Oracle, it has never been this bad before. Something is...accelerating its growth, and the time of the prophecy will soon come to pass.”

“‘The Chosen King’...” muttered Noctis, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “That’d be me, right?”

“We’ve all assumed as much, yes,” said Luna, and there was almost a teasing note to her voice this time. Noctis tried not to grin.

“Couldn’t have chosen a more convenient time for it, could they?” he asked, only half-joking.

“They’d certainly have struggled to pick more desperate circumstances,” said Luna, becoming serious once more. “But the will of the Hexatheon is...murky, at times, even to me.”

“Well, if it was easy to understand them, they probably wouldn’t be gods, would they?”

“Probably not,” she conceded, amused once more. “In any case, there was actually something that I wanted to ask _you,_ Noctis.”

“Um, sure, what is it?” he asked, not entirely certain whether he was going to like what he was about to hear.

“You already know that I’m here to forge a covenant with the Archaean?” she asked, and he nodded. “My thoughts were that, since I'm forging them in your name, that you might like to accompany me while I do so, that you might fulfil the conditions of the Trial as soon as you're able?”

“I—Of course!” said Noctis, who’d been wondering for almost a week about how he was going to handle fighting Titan, and felt entirely amenable to having Luna there as a moderator for once.

For a brief moment, memories of Leviathan swelled to the forefront of his mind. He shoved them down. This time would be different.

“I’m glad you agree,” said Luna, now smiling genuinely once more. “But it will be difficult for you to get in; Gentiana can help _me_ with that, but you and your friends will likely need disguises of some kind.”

“Luna,” said Noctis, holding up his hand. “You had me at ‘disguises,’” he had to pause for a moment to let her recover from her laughter. “Now—which Imperials are allowed into the Disc, because I think we’ve got some stealthing to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's another chapter! This was one of the ones I've been really excited to write since the beginning because Noct _finally_ gets to (sort of) tell someone else about his knowledge of the situation—someone who can actually empathise with and understand his position. I was also really excited to kind of get into Luna's head for this chapter too, and you can't pay me to think that her experiences in Insomnia and the Empire didn't have a lasting effect on her. It's just nice to have the two of them, who've both suffered inordinately up until this point, actually be able to talk to someone who kind of understands—and makes me desperately wish they'd had more interaction in the game, but that's a side issue. 
> 
> Anyway, as always, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the newest chapter and if so, let me know!


	20. Signs of Destruction

It was now around eight o’clock in the evening, and night had well and truly fallen. The streetlamps bathed the street in a warm glow, entirely devoid of the troubling flickering that had been present in his nightmares. As he walked, he tried to focus on what he needed to do. Luna had given him a fairly comprehensive run-down of the information she knew about the Imperials posted in the area, but before he could explain that to the others, he needed to talk to Ignis. He still didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say. He couldn’t explain what’d happened, other than that he’d fainted, again. And that wasn’t what Ignis wanted to hear.

This must have been at least the fifth time Noctis had had the same conversation with him, and every time it only got more and more difficult to hide the truth. But he _couldn’t_ tell him. He’d promised himself that. And wouldn’t it only make him more angry, more concerned, when he found out that Noctis had been lying to him for so long already? He didn’t deserve that, but Noctis was running low on excuses. He needed some kind of permanent solution to the problem, and soon. As he walked aimlessly through the streets of Lestallum he racked his brains to think about what would finally convince Ignis to let the matter go. But perhaps he was thinking about it the wrong way? He didn’t want his friends worrying about him, that was a given, but Ignis was always worrying about him anyway...so perhaps he just needed to divert his attention from the real issue. If Ignis felt like he could do something to help, then maybe he would focus on that and stop asking Noctis what was wrong.

But what was he going to say? He’d already told Ignis about his nightmares, and there was nothing he could do about them. How could he make this into something more...tangible?

“Noctis.”

The voice came from behind him, and he already knew who it was. It looked like he was out of time.

“How long have you been following me, Ignis?” he asked, turning to face him.

“I haven’t,” he said, and his voice was so painfully tired Noctis almost flinched as he spoke. “I merely saw you as I was leaving the restaurant,” and he pointed at a tall, expensive-looking establishment just down the road.

“I...see,” said Noctis, not really knowing where to begin.

“Prompto left a while ago—I was just settling the bill,” said Ignis, not looking him in the eyes, and not really concentrating on what he was saying.

It was clear that Ignis didn’t really want to talk to him. Just a few hours ago Noctis would have been relieved, but instead he just felt a heavy weight on his chest. He didn’t have to do this now. He could wait for things to settle down, wait for the battle with Titan—but he wasn’t going to. He needed to sort this as soon as possible, and even if he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to do it, he needed to find some way to reassure Ignis.

“Ignis listen, I’m sorry about what happened earlier—”

“—Don’t,” said Ignis, and Noctis tried not to get upset by how careworn he sounded. “It’s...fine. Truly, I overreacted. It won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t,” said Noctis, but now he had determination in his voice, which caused Ignis to look up at him with surprise. “But not because you’re going to ignore it. Listen, I know I’ve been acting...weirdly, recently, and I’m really, honestly, _sorry_ , about how much I’ve been worrying you. I know it hasn’t been fair, or made much sense. But I’m going to do better. I promise.”

“Noctis, you don’t have to—”

“—Ignis, I know that me just saying that everything will be fine won’t make you believe me. But, I want you to give me one last chance—to let me prove it to you. Let me prove that I’m going to be alright. No more fainting, no more going out alone to fight daemons, no more...weirdness. I promise. But if you do think that I’m still...not going to be okay, after that, then, I guess I’ll let you do what you want—take me to see a doctor or whatever. But please, I just want one last chance at this. That’s all I’m asking.”

Ignis gave him a long, penetrating look. It wasn’t a nice sensation, as though Ignis was scanning him, as though he was looking for some weakness to exploit, as he did with all the enemies they faced. And truth be told, Noctis didn’t really know what he was doing. He had no way of stopping himself from fainting, or having flashbacks, but he’d be damned if he was going to let things continue like this. At the very least, he could try harder to hide his ‘episodes’ whenever they happened. He had no backup though, no contingency plan if things went wrong, only the promise he’d made himself, and now with Ignis as well. But now at least he had some solid motivation for keeping it. And that would have to be enough.

“Very well,” said Ignis, though he didn’t sound very convinced by Noctis’s proposal.

“There’s...something else I want to talk to you about,” said Noctis, not entirely sure about whether he should just go ahead and tell Ignis about his talk with Luna or leave him alone to digest what had happened for a while. But to his surprise, and relief, when he said this, Ignis’s face seemed to light up with the first genuinely happy expression he’d had in a while. “Just now I, um, I saw Luna again.”

“Really?” said Ignis, and he seemed to be contemplating something. “What happened?”

“Well, we talked about some stuff, you know, what happened to Insomnia, things like that,” he said, deciding not to tell Ignis that he’d trusted her with more information than he’d ever feel happy telling any of his friends.

“So this wasn’t just a chance meeting, I take it?” said Ignis, and this time he sounded a little amused.

“Uh, no, I asked her to meet me while we were in the tent,” said Noctis, firmly ignoring the subtext of Ignis’s question. Would it kill them to at least pretend to believe him when he said he didn’t have feelings for her? “But there’s something else—while we were talking she told me about the covenant with Titan, and she asked me to come with her.”

“A group effort then?” mused Ignis, and Noctis was glad he was taking it so well so far. “That certainly sounds like a sensible plan, but I assume that she’s well aware that the Disc is under Imperial lockdown at the moment?”

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” said Noctis, glad that they’d now managed to move past the earlier unpleasantness. “She said that Gentiana could get her past the guards just fine, but that we’d probably need some sort of disguise to get past them. She also told me which Imperials are allowed in and out of the Disc at the moment.”

Ignis’s face seemed to fall a little when he mentioned that Luna had already told him which Imperials to look for. It seemed like he’d been excited to go searching for information. He quickly recovered himself though.

“That sounds like an excellent start Noct,” he said, actually smiling at him now, and Noctis thought that it might be the first time he’d seen Ignis smile since they’d set out. “But before you say anymore—perhaps it would be best to continue once we’ve caught up with Prompto and Gladio first, hmm?”

“Sure,” said Noctis, trying to suppress a grin. Ignis’s cheeriness was rubbing off on him—he was just so happy to see that he was finally doing something that was actually making Ignis happy that he couldn’t help himself. “They’ll be back at the hotel, right?”

“Indeed, it shouldn’t take too long to get back from here,” said Ignis, who had already begun to walk up the street ahead of him.

“Hey, wait up!” called Noctis, jogging up behind him, then equalling his pace as they continued on through the twisting streets of Lestallum.

They didn’t talk much on the way back to the hotel, but this time Noctis found that he didn’t really mind. He knew that Ignis’s silence wasn’t out of anger, or worry, and so long as he knew that, he was content to allow the quiet to fall over them. By the time they reached the Leville, everyone had long ago finished eating in the restaurant, and the only people there seemed to be the women working a slightly later shift at Exineris. Noctis felt a pang of hunger—a reminder that he still hadn’t eaten due to his earlier fit of anger. He tried to ignore it. He had time to eat once they were back at the hotel room and he’d explained the plan to everyone.

When he opened the door to the hotel room—still unlocked, the first thing he saw was that it seemed to have been turned upside down. For a moment he was gripped with an intense and almost overwhelming panic—had the Imperials found them? But this panic soon turned into annoyance when he saw two very scrawny legs sticking out from under the bed.

“I know it’s around here somewhere…” said Prompto, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric.

“Yeah, well I still don’t see it, and we’ve looked literally everywhere,” said a voice from the bathroom, which Noctis quickly identified as Gladio.

Ignis cleared his throat loudly, sparing Noct another awkward interaction. Prompto immediately jerked up at the noise, and there was a rather loud bang as his head collided with the underside of the bed.

“Owww…” he mumbled, sliding out from under the wooden frame and looking up at Ignis sheepishly.

“Oh, you’re back,” said Gladio, ducking out from the bathroom when he heard Ignis’s voice. “Glad to see you’ve made it too,” he said, apparently having spotted Noctis standing just behind Ignis.

“Right,” said Noctis, a little hesitantly. Gladio still seemed to be in a cheery mood though, so he tried not to dwell on the feeling.

“What on earth have you two been doing?” asked Ignis, disapproval ringing clear in his voice. “It looks like we’ve been ransacked.”

“Well, we were just playing cards,” said Prompto, now blushing and looking at the table, where, sure enough, it looked like a game had been recently interrupted, “and we realised we were missing one.”

“So you turned the place upside down trying to look for it,” said Ignis, sighing deeply.

Noctis had never been more thankful that he’d had the sense to keep his list in the Armiger rather than with his belongings, which were now strewn everywhere across the room.

“Bit much for one card, isn’t it?” he asked, stepping gingerly over a pile of magazines that were blocking his way to his suitcase.

“I guess,” sighed Prompto. “But I was sure it was in here. We definitely had it earlier, and it’s not like any of us have taken the cards anywhere.”

“You know how it is Prompto, sometimes things just disappear into the void,” he said, beginning the somewhat immense task of trying to tidy his things away. At least it would distract him from his news for a while.

“Anyway, haven’t you got something to tell them, Noct?” asked Ignis, rather pointedly. No such luck.

“Right,” he mumbled, still making an attempt to look like he was doing something useful. “So when I met Luna again—”

“—Wait, when you what?” asked Prompto, looking at him accusatorily.

“Right, sorry, you’re the only one I haven’t told yet,” said Noctis, who had the sense to look a little embarrassed. Prompto sensed this moment of weakness however, and immediately latched onto it.

“How could you?” he wailed, sniffing melodramatically. “After all we’ve been through together?”

“I know, my bad,” said Noctis, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I met Luna about half an hour ago, and she wants me to be with her when she forges the covenant with Titan. But to do that, we need some way of sneaking past the guards at the Disc. She’s already told me which Imperials are allowed in there, so I’m thinking: take ‘em out and use their uniforms as disguises?”

“Think that’d work?” asked Gladio, slumping down onto a chair. “I mean, you’d think the Nifs would know who’s who around their bases.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” said Ignis. “It depends on how high the security is there.”

“From what Luna told me I don’t think they’ve settled in too deeply; seems like they’ve recently lightened up on security,” said Noctis, trying not to think too hard about what that probably meant—namely that Ardyn was definitely still lurking around somewhere.

“But that’s good for us, right?” asked Prompto, apparently having spotted Noctis’s look of uncertainty.

“Right,” he said, feeling suddenly as though he was running out of energy.

He was extremely tired now, as though having told everyone about the plan had taken something out of him—motivation perhaps? Either way, he could feel a kind of heavy, itchy feeling around his eyes that told him it wouldn’t be long until he fell asleep, whether he wanted to or not.

“Why don’t you go to sleep, Noct?” asked Ignis, having noticed his bleariness. “You’ve had a long day.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, becoming less and less coherent by the second.

He got up, and for a moment his vision went black as he felt the blood rushing to his head. He reached out to the bed to steady himself and then began walking towards the bathroom to get changed. Gladio moved the chair out of his way as he passed, but reached out to grab his arm. Noctis automatically felt his arm tense up as Gladio closed his fingers around it. He tried to stay calm.

“Don’t fall asleep in there Noct,” he said, and Noctis could tell he was only half joking as he relinquished his arm again.

“Yeah,” he muttered, and continued into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

As he took off his jacket in preparation however, he heard something clatter to the ground, and as he caught sight of the source of the noise, he felt his heart briefly stop beating. The Ring of the Lucii was lying on the floor, almost innocuous in how mundane it seemed. He quickly reached down to grab it—how could he have forgotten about something so important? Of course he already knew how he’d forgotten; after all, he did already have it. As he touched the Ring though, he felt it thrumming beneath his fingers, as though his touch had activated some sort of power within it. He felt a similar sensation within his Armiger, and as he looked, he saw the Ring—the original ring, and it was glowing and resonating with the new one. He knew this sensation—he’d felt it before, when he’d collected the Swords of the Wanderer, and for a moment, he once again felt a deep and incomprehensible fear.

Slowly, hesitantly, he pulled the old Ring out of the Armiger, and the moment its physical form had solidified, it shot out of his hand and collided with the new Ring, and as it did, an intense, blinding white light obscured his vision. For a moment, he felt panicked. Could the others see this from the other room? But then that panic faded away, and all he could feel was a brilliant, blazing, _burning_ sensation. After a few seconds, he realised this burning was originating from his hand, where, as his vision returned to him, he saw the Ring. And it was just _the_ Ring, now. Where there had once been two, there was now only one, and where it sat on his palm, the same white light he’d seen before was illuminating the veins beneath his skin, and this time it _hurt._

Thinking as quickly as he could, he immediately banished the Ring back into his Armiger, just trying to get it off him as quickly as possible. This seemed to work—when the Ring vanished so did the white light under his skin, and, more slowly, the pain originating there. And for a moment he just sat, shuddering. He didn’t know what had caused it, and every time he tried to think about it, every time he tried to understand what had just happened, it was like everything in his mind turned into that impenetrable black fog that haunted his dreams.

He didn’t know how he had come back into the past, he didn’t know what was happening to him, he didn’t know how to fix anything, and every time he tried to think about it, it was like running headlong into a brick wall. He couldn’t deal with it, he just couldn’t, and as he thought this he felt an uncontrollable bile rising in his throat, and managed to duck towards the toilet just in time. Perhaps it was a good thing he hadn’t eaten in such a long time—or perhaps that was why he was violently throwing up into the toilet, either was probable, and he tried to focus more on that than the intensely unpleasant set of feelings running through him at that moment.

When he had finished, he immediately flushed the evidence away and turned on the taps over the washbasin, frantically splashing his face with water, trying to calm himself down. When he no longer felt his heart pounding against his ribs, he looked up into the mirror over the basin and almost recoiled. He looked like an absolute wreck. He was white as a sheet, and there were dark, bruised circles under his eyes, only worsened by slightly bluish tinge to his lips, and his redness around his nose. He couldn’t go back out looking like that. He suddenly realised he was still in his normal clothes. He’d come in there to get changed—perhaps that would be long enough for his complexion to return to normal?

When he looked in the mirror again, now in pyjamas, he still didn’t look great. He was paler than normal, clearly sleep-deprived and at the very least looked like he was coming down with a cold—but he no longer looked like he was on death’s door, so that was something. When he re-emerged none of his friends seemed overly concerned—except perhaps Ignis.

“Hey, didn’t I tell you _not_ to nod off in there?” asked Gladio, and although his tone was joking, Noctis could see him looking at him quite closely.

“Sorry, kind of spaced out for a few minutes,” said Noctis, who had never been more thankful for the apparently sound-proof doors they had in the Leville.

“Humph,” said Gladio, and returned to the conversation he was having with Ignis and Prompto.

Noctis guessed that it was probably about their plans for tomorrow, but was far, far too tired by that point to concentrate on what they were saying, and instead more or less collapsed onto the bed. As he did, his head and body felt unbearably heavy and, as he lost focus, he could feel his consciousness fading away, and the world being obscured in darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! We're back with the old crew again and Noctis continues to make bad decisions about his health. Turns out promising everything is going to be 100% okay when you know everything is definitely _not_ going to be okay has long-term consequences. This chapter marks Noctis turning over a new, very self-destructive, leaf, and it was kind of nice to get back into his head again, even if his headspace is still pretty messed up at present. It was also nice to get back to writing all the bros in one place again! They've been kind of separated/individually upset for a while now, so it was good to get them back together for a while. 
> 
> In any case, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and let me know if that was the case!


	21. A Gap in the Fog

Noctis didn’t know why he’d expected his slumber to be restful. Perhaps it was just because there was so much that had happened to him that he almost couldn’t believe that his nightmares would go on forever. Perhaps it was because of the semi-restful experience he’d had when he passed out earlier. But whatever had caused it, his instinct had been wrong. Instead he had returned to the world of darkness that seemed to haunt him whenever he slept. It looked a bit different to how it had before though.

For one thing, when he usually awoke in the darkness, it was the constant night-time that tipped him off that he was dreaming. This time it would be hard _not_ to know. He was in Lestallum again, and the entire architecture of the city seemed to have changed. It was like a hurricane had swept through the market square, and almost every building on the street was in a state of disrepair—there were large cracks in the walls and in the stones paving the street. Instead of boarded-up windows, there were just fragments of glass lying on the ground, and as Noctis looked inside the buildings he could see that everything seemed to be in a state of decay.

And once again, as was constant in all of his dreams so far, there were no people. But what was so eerie about the broken down shell of Lestallum wasn’t just that there were no people, it was that it was almost like there had _never_ been people. Obviously the buildings were still there, and the furniture inside the houses, but any other sign of residence had completely vanished. There were no stalls set up in the marketplace, there was no food, rotted or otherwise, behind the counters in the stores, or any sign that the many businesses and houses there had been used in a long, long time. It was almost as though every person that once lived there had packed up and left without a trace.

But perhaps the most unnerving part of the dream was that the graves were still there, and as Noctis stumbled once more towards the main street, up to the power plant, he felt almost as though the world was laughing at him. ‘Look at all of the people you couldn’t save,’ it seemed to say, and Noctis sighed as he made his way up through the gravestones, towards the memorial. He didn’t know why he was so beset by guilt—he knew, logically, that it was Ardyn who’d killed all these people by spreading the Starscourge like a plague, but he felt like it was _his_ fault somehow—for not saving them perhaps?

But just as he thought this, his hand brushed over one of the graves, and for a moment everything went white. When his vision returned it was suddenly, and all at once, and he didn’t know where he was. But he did know that he was doing...something. Running forward, towards a figure in the distance. But he wasn’t—or at least, he wasn’t meaning to. It was like his mind had been trapped in a body that wasn’t his, and was moving and acting against his will. As ‘he’ got closer and closer to the person, a middle-aged man in a raincoat, he noticed his body wasn’t slowing down. It was going to bowl right into him. He tried desperately to get himself to stop running, but no matter how hard he tried to think about it, he found he couldn’t control his body at all, and to his horror, he then began to feel the distinct sensation of the Armiger forming around him.

Surely he wasn’t going to—but no, he could _feel_ himself drawing a blade from the Armiger, all the while getting closer and closer to this man. He tried vainly to call out to him, to warn him somehow about what he was going to do, but it was no good, he was trapped, and he couldn’t even close his eyes as it drove the sword deep into the man’s sternum with a sickening _crunch._ For a moment the man’s eyes widened with shock, before the life slowly faded out of them, and as it did, Noctis felt his mouth open, and the words:

“I’m sorry,” came quietly out.

And it was unquestionably his voice. What the hell was going on?

Almost as soon as he wondered this, he was once again back in Lestallum, but he was off-balance now—he just _killed_ someone! He’d _felt_ himself do it, seen every detail as that man’s life had slipped away—and Noctis had to concentrate very hard to prevent himself from vomiting at the memory of the blood welling up around the puncture wound. Why? Why had he done it? What was going on?

But he didn’t have much time to think about it as he staggered backwards, and instinctively threw his hands out to catch himself, only to have them fall onto still more gravestones. And it was the same as before—he was trapped, trapped in a body he knew to be his, but with no way of controlling it. Forced to watch in anguish as it mercilessly slaughtered its way through more and more people as Noctis tried to get away from the gravestones as quickly as possible. His vision ran red with blood, and by the time he’d reached the clearing just in front of the memorial to Luna and the others, he was unable to stay upright, collapsing onto the floor, and resting his head against the huge stone monument.

For a moment he just tried to keep his breathing constant—he’d killed so many people, why? How? Was that the reason all the gravestones were there? He closed his eyes, trying vainly to block out his thoughts. All he wanted was some quiet—even the black fog would be preferable to this, he just needed _something_ to block it out. But although the world turned to shadows when he closed his eyes, he almost immediately felt himself become disembodied, and quickly realised he was back in the dark space, where so many had died. But this time, the faces were familiar.

He’d already seen his dad, Cor and Clarus die at his hands—hadn’t that been enough? But he was walking this time, not running, and for a moment he allowed himself a brief spark of hope. Luna was there, and as he approached she turned and smiled at him, and as she did, so did Gladio, and Prompto, and Ignis, and Iris. They were all there. He felt his own mouth curve up into a smile to match theirs. And then he felt tears running slowly down his cheeks.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he felt himself say, as he got closer and closer.

“About what?” asked Gladio, frowning, and his voice was strangely distant, as though speaking underwater.

“Yeah, what’s got you so down Noct?” asked Iris, and her voice was similarly muffled.

“I have to do this,” said Noctis’s body, and the tears were coming faster now, “to save all of you.”

“What are you talking about buddy?” asked Prompto, whose frown of confusion quickly turned to an expression of alarm, as Noctis’s hand raised itself in front of him, pointed towards his friends.

The Ring of the Lucii burned bright on his finger.

“It won’t hurt, I promise,” gasped Noctis, as he screamed inside his head for all of them to _get away._ “You’re all going to be okay—you won’t even notice anything’s wrong.”

As he said this, he could feel his body summoning every last drop of magical energy inside it, and channelling it straight into the Ring. He understood what he was about to do, and screamed. Why, why, why? He couldn’t _kill_ his friends! There had to be some way to stop himself—there _had_ to. But slowly, agonisingly slowly, crystals began to form in his vision, and a red portal started to open up above their heads.

“Noctis! What are you doing?” cried Ignis.

“Someone stop him!” yelled Prompto, completely panicked as the portal got wider and wider, consuming the space above them and starting to pull at his friends’ souls.

They were all trying to get away from the gaping hole in the sky above him now, but it was too late. Noctis watched, tears obscuring his vision, as his friends were pulled slowly backwards into the portal, powerless to do anything against vacuum pulling them inwards. Gradually—more gradually than it had ever taken before, the colour began to fade out of their forms, leaving them shining white figures as, bit by bit, their souls were sucked away.

“I love you,” he said, barely able to speak through his sobs. “I love all of you. And I’m going to save you. I promise.”

But there was nothing left for him to save. He was alone in the darkness.

And then he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a bit shorter than my usual, but there's a _lot_ of stuff going on here, so I wanted to post it separately to the next one. I've got to say though, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to top this chapter as far as Noct's dream sequences go, since this is pretty damn intense as it is! 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter and let me know if you liked it!


	22. A Troubling Reappearence

It took him nearly ten minutes, five of which were spent bent over the toilet again, to realise that what had just happened was only a dream and that in reality his friends were still alive and well, and he hadn’t murdered them in cold blood. He was still shaking with both adrenaline and anguish by the time he left the bathroom, and his pyjamas were uncomfortably sticking to him with sweat. He hadn’t bothered to look in the mirror to see what he looked like—he got the distinct impression it would only leave him throwing up again. He threw himself down into a chair and waited until he stopped shaking, watching as his friends slept peacefully in their beds. He was lucky he was sharing with Gladio that night. The man could sleep through a train wreck when he was under deep enough, and that night he clearly was.

When his heart had returned to a speed that didn’t make him afraid it was about to burst out of his chest at any moment, he rose from his chair. He almost immediately sank back down into it as his vision started to fade, and silently cursed his low blood pressure. He tried again, more slowly this time, to rise and walk toward the shuttered doors that opened out onto the balcony. This time his body cooperated, and he sluggishly opened the doors, stepping outside and into the chill night air.

He shuddered slightly as he felt his body temperature plummet, going from much too warm to much too cold in a matter of seconds. It wasn’t actually that cool outside, the late spring heat still lingering in the air, but what with his clothes still damp with sweat and his senses still heightened from left-over adrenaline, it felt freezing. Apart from his generic discomfort with the temperature, he also noticed his pyjamas were hanging more loosely on his frame than they normally did—it seemed he’d lost weight over the course of their journey. He heard Ignis’s voice in the back of his head nagging him to eat something. He would—when he wasn’t still at risk of just bringing it straight back up again.

Trying to distract himself for a moment from the discomfort he was in, he leaned over the railing and looked down onto the street below. It was completely empty—a rarity, even for Lestallum. It reminded him too much of the empty world of his nightmares, and he instinctively looked back at his friends—just to make sure they were still there. He returned his gaze to the street below—the houses were still very much intact, and the street lamps still shone brightly onto the pavement. It wasn’t the world of darkness. Not yet.

But just as Noctis was thinking this, his eyes were drawn to a shadowy alleyway, not quite illuminated by the lamplight, where there seemed to be a dark figure, standing and looking up at him. He shrunk back slightly, before shaking himself and looking more closely. He couldn’t even see the person’s face—he had no way of knowing whether they were looking at him. They were probably just a night owl returning to the hotel to take advantage of the few remaining hours of sleep they had left. However, no sooner had he finished trying to justify his unease to himself, when the shadowy figure stepped a little closer to the light.

The person in question was clearly wearing several layers of clothing, and though Noctis couldn’t see the colours or the face of the person below him in the darkness, the smug, condescending way they tipped their distinctive hat in his direction was enough for him to identify them instantly. Ardyn.

He was almost halfway out of the door before he had any idea what he was doing. He’d pulled on his shoes and ‘borrowed’ Ignis’s jacket to stave off the cold, and was wrenching the door open before he even thought about what exactly he was planning to do. The single thought running through his mind was that he needed to catch Ardyn and end him, and with him, the Starscourge, before any of this could escalate any further. He wouldn’t need a way back in if he succeeded, but he shoved his hand into the pocket of his jacket anyway, and sure enough, the keycard to the room was securely inside. Now all he had to do was chase the bastard down before he got away.

He tore through the hotel as quickly as possible, sliding down the bannisters rather than taking the stairs, waking up the receptionist still on duty. No sooner was he outside did he realise that Ardyn was already gone. Cursing each of the Astrals individually, he flopped down onto the side of the fountain, willing himself to just have one day, one singular day, where nothing went wrong. No Ardyn, no fainting, no flashbacks, nothing. That’s all he wanted. The Astrals has apparently taken offence at his cursing them however, as, just out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of long mauve scarf flashing by him.

He immediately jumped to his feet, and even started moving towards it, before realising exactly what it was he was doing. Namely—exactly what Ardyn wanted him to. There was no way in hell Ardyn wasn’t trying to lead him into a trap, and he had been about to fall for it hook, line and sinker. But he knew better this time. Well, slightly better, at least. He was still going to go after Ardyn. Just, more carefully than he might have done otherwise.

So, doing his damnedest to appear as casual as possible, he began to walk slowly towards where he’d seen Ardyn’s scarf disappear to. He willed his limbs not to shake, and hoped that his slow pace was at least as irritating to Ardyn as it was terrifying for him. He wanted to rush at him, swords in hand, acknowledge him for the threat he was, and destroy him as quickly as possible. That was what every instinct he had was screaming at him to do. But he didn’t.

As he rounded a corner into a darkened alleyway, he could see Ardyn outlined in the lighted street beyond, turning right at the end of the alleyway—just barely in his line of sight—taunting him. Noctis walked as slowly as he dared up to the end of the alleyway, looking cautiously into the street beyond for any sign of something amiss. The air seemed strangely still in the space just past the exit of the alleyway, and Noctis found himself hesitating. There wasn’t anyone else around to help him if Ardyn tried something, and he was far too awake to simply return to the hotel, especially since he’d just be leading Ardyn straight back to his friends. He wasn’t sure if he could do this just yet. After all, killing Ardyn was essentially committing suicide.

He took two hesitant steps and emerged into the light of the main street. He was just outside Lestallum now, not far from the viewing platform where he’d met Luna earlier. There was a kind of stagnant stillness all around him, and it wasn’t just the heat that was making him feel groggy. He could see people seated on the benches, having a very late meal, or at least, they would be, if they were moving. It was as though everything around him had frozen inexplicably in place, and Noctis instantly knew that Ardyn was behind it. It was the same as in the train on the way to Gralea, and although he had no idea whether time had actually stopped or if it was simply an elaborate illusion, what he _did_ know was that things were getting serious, and that meant he needed to be on his guard.

Or, at least, those were his thoughts, before everything very suddenly became unstuck again, ambient noise once more filled his ears, and a chill breeze brushed by his back. It was like all signs of Ardyn’s influence had vanished without a trace. Guessing it must be some sort of ploy to catch him off-guard, Noctis immediately whirled around, trying to anticipate Ardyn’s next move. Unfortunately for him, someone had been coming up just behind him, someone who definitely wasn’t Ardyn, and he collided with them at full force, almost sending them both tumbling to the ground. Noctis was just about able to catch himself, and the person he’d run into had thankfully managed to keep their balance as well. Noctis felt the colour drain from his face as he realised who it was though.

“It seems we’re fated to keep running into each other Noctis,” said Luna, who mercifully looked more bemused than anything else.

“Yeah, seems like,” said Noctis nervously, trying not to look around too obviously for where Ardyn had gotten to.

He had them both together after all, no time would be better to take the both of them out at once.

“What has you so worried Noctis?” asked Luna, now looking at him with a hint of concern, and for a moment Noctis wanted to self-immolate, before fairly abruptly realising that he was with one of the only people on the star who wouldn’t underestimate Ardyn as a threat.

“I thought I saw Ardyn just a moment ago. He shouldn’t be here,” said Noctis, ‘or at least, not yet,’ he thought.

“The Chancellor’s here?” asked Luna, and Noctis was relieved that she was taking him seriously. “That doesn’t make sense,” she muttered, almost as though she didn’t want Noctis to hear.

“I know, I think—I think he might be coming after me,” said Noctis, and it felt strange to acknowledge it out loud.

“Why?” asked Luna, clearly confused. “Wasn’t I the one who died in your dreams?”

“Yeah, but _not_ in my dreams, in actual, real life, I might have...kind of tried to kill him? A bit? So he’s probably pretty mad about that,” he said, trying to get everything past Luna before she had time to react.

“ _What?”_ asked Luna, as though she couldn’t believe her ears. “Noctis you—what possessed you?”

“Listen, I know it seems stupid, but I really wasn’t entirely sure what was going on at the time—I thought if I could just _end him,_ then everything would be alright,” said Noctis, and he wasn’t even lying this time, which made him feel a little lighter—even if he was essentially confessing to trying to murder someone.

To his surprise, Luna didn’t seem particularly horrified by this reasoning, and indeed, he saw a kind of cold hardness in her eyes, the same he’d seen when she was deciding whether or not to agree to meet him. Living in the Empire had changed her, and he vaguely remembered the notebooks they’d shared, and how, as time went on, it felt as though there was somehow a hole in Luna’s notes to him, as though there were things she just didn’t tell him. In her eyes at that moment, he caught a brief glimpse of what those things might be, and for once was glad he didn’t know the true extent of what life under Imperial rule was like. He had enough hatred for the Empire as it was.

“A sensible thought, if, sadly, impossible under the present circumstances,” she said, looking past him for a moment, before looking him in the eyes. “Do you think he’s still here?” she asked, and there was a kind of unspoken weight to her question.

“No, it was almost like he vanished,” said Noctis, willing himself not to look at whatever Luna had looked at behind him—forcing himself to trust her.

“I see,” she said, and seemed to ponder over this for a moment, before continuing. “In that case, would you like to join me for my walk?”

“I, um, sure,” he said, not entirely understanding what had just happened.

“Ah, forgive me, I didn’t mean to change the subject so abruptly,” she said, noticing Noctis’s confusion. “I find it likely that if Ardyn had planned to do anything to the two of us, he’d have done it by now.”

“You’re probably right,” said Noctis, with a disheartened sigh. “I guess I just wanted to deal with him then and there, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” said Luna, a touch of laughter in her voice, and Noctis realised that this probably wasn’t the first time Luna and Ardyn had run into each other, both being such prominent figures in the Empire.

She began to walk slowly along the street, up towards the tunnel leading out of Lestallum. He walked slightly hesitantly by her side. He still couldn’t quite shake how off it was to just be spending time with her while neither of their lives were in immediate danger. Still, the least he could do would be to make conversation.

“So, how come you’re up so late?” he asked, deciding to start with a fairly neutral topic, and a question he’d been wanting to ask since he bumped into her.

“Not late: early,” she said, and she sounded slightly sad, as though the topic was a depressing one.

“Right,” said Noctis awkwardly, not knowing exactly how to continue the conversation from there.

“It’s something of a ritual for me,” she said, somewhat distantly, as though her thoughts were somewhere else. “I started doing it a long time ago. There are some things which _need_ to be done under the cover of night you know.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” asked Noctis, half-curious, half-thinking-he’d-rather-not-know.

She looked at him for a lengthy moment, before turning away so he couldn’t read her expression.

“Yes...I think I would,” she said, and slowed her pace a little as she thought about what to say. “It started not long after the Empire took over. Ravus and I were separated by the guards that took over Fenestala Manor—it was meant to serve as a kind of punishment. Not to mention that they didn’t want me trying to convince him that King Regis wasn’t responsible for what happened.”

“Is that what he thinks?” asked Noctis, slightly bewildered.

Even in his darkest moments, he’d never considered himself or his father responsible for what happened in Tenebrae—perhaps it was because he’d been too young to fully understand the reason the MT’s had poured down on their heads and started shooting. But even so, the memory was emblazoned on his mind, even after all the time that had passed in the intervening years.  

“It’s what he _thought,”_ she said, with some force in her voice. “But as to what he thinks now, I have no idea.”

“I see,” said Noctis, “Please go on, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” said Luna with a smile. “In spite of the fact we were kept apart, we were still able to send letters to each other through Umbra—the same way I sent the notebooks to you, and eventually we made a pact to find some way of seeing each other without our guards finding out. After several weeks of watching their shifts, we managed to find a blind spot in their patrol at around four in the morning. So, every week, we would both get up early and sneak past them to meet in secret.”

“That must have been frightening though—I mean, what if they’d found out? You were only, like, twelve,” said Noctis, trying not to sound too horrified by her situation.

“It _was_ frightening,” said Luna, and that weariness Noctis had seen earlier had come back. “But, you have to understand Noctis— _everything_ was frightening, just getting through the day was frightening. I know I never talked much about it when we wrote to each other, I’m not entirely sure why I’m telling you now, but living under the rule of the Empire was a constant lesson in fear. Eventually it just becomes...normal. Like background noise. I had to learn to simply...tune it out.”

“That sounds...horrible,” said Noctis, now understanding for the first time why Luna had been so unafraid while facing down Leviathan—she’d had a lot of practice. “But, I guess I understand, in some way. I haven’t gone through nearly what you have, but, these last few days—seeing you dying in my dreams, seeing my friends suffer, I just can’t deal with much more of it. I guess that’s why I’m out here so late. Sorry, I interrupted your story again didn’t I?”

“It’s fine Noctis,” said Luna gently, “I know it’s difficult when no one else understands the burden placed on you—that’s the price of being chosen by the Gods.”

“Yeah,” said Noctis, and for a brief moment his mind returned to the day he died, and he remembered how, even after everything, Ardyn had, for one brief moment, looked at peace. “I guess it is.”

“In any case, there’s not much more to tell. Ravus and I continued to meet early in the morning to talk and exchange information on the movements of the Empire and what they were doing to Tenebrae. Or at least, we did for a while...about a year after Niflheim took over, I noticed that Ravus seemed less and less enthusiastic to speak with me, and gradually our meetings became further and further apart. Where we’d once met every week, it became two weeks, then three, then a month...until one day, he just didn’t show up at all. It was like he’d just...disappeared. It was almost six months before I found out that he’d joined the army.”

“I’m sorry Luna.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever quite forgiven him,” she said, and her voice was trembling slightly. “I know he cares about me, but to simply leave...he said he did it to keep me safe.”

This was the first time Noctis had seen Luna look so utterly defeated, she was hunched over slightly, brought down by the weight of her emotions, and in the grey light of early morning, he could see tears welling in her eyes. He tried to push down the anger he felt towards Ravus.

“I guess he didn’t realise how much it meant to you—to be able to speak with him,” said Noctis, fishing some more ragged tissues out of his pocket and handing them to Luna, who took them gratefully. 

“No,” she said, still shakily, “I don’t think he did. All he needed to do was stay by my side—that’s all I wanted. But he felt like he needed to do more, so he left instead. He thought that if he could work his way up through the army, then he could bring Niflheim down from the inside—head full of fairy tales.”

“Ravus is a double agent?” asked Noctis, genuinely surprised by this news. He knew Ravus had had a last minute change of heart about him being the Chosen King, he’d thought that was exactly what it had been—last minute.

“He would be, if he was actually reporting to anyone else except me,” said Luna, giving a half-laugh half-sob. “He’s not though. Sorry Noctis, I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this—I shouldn’t be burdening you with my troubles.”

“Don’t worry,” said Noctis, giving her the most reassuring smile he could muster. “I’m a good listener. And it’s never a burden—I promise.”

“I remember when we were children,” said Luna, looking up at the sky and trying to blink away the remainder of her tears, “you’d sit and listen to me read for hours. You always seemed so...serene, back then. You were so fascinated by the Astrals.”

“Thank you,” said Noctis, laughing at the unexpected praise. “You always made the stories sound so interesting—and you gave different voices to every character so I never got confused—Dad was always terrible at that.”

“You remember that?” asked Luna, chuckling and turning slightly red. “I always thought I overdid it a little with the voices.”

“Nah, just made the stories better—at least the way I remember it.”

“Thank you Noctis,” said Luna, still laughing slightly, and handing him back his tissues. “You’ve truly lifted my spirits.”

“Any time,” said Noctis, stowing them away for later.

He’d been about to say something else, but was distracted by something he saw in the distance. Dawn was breaking over the horizon. Light was lancing out from the sun and beginning to cast it’s brilliant rays over the still sleeping city of Lestallum, slowly bringing light back to the world after what felt to Noctis like an eternity in the darkness. It had been a long night for him, and seeing the sun rising in the sky brought a strange, tranquil feeling over him. It felt, almost for the first time since he’d woken up in this strange new life, like he was actually able to relax for a moment.

Luna was similarly struck by the dawn, staring intently as light broke over the world once more, and for a moment they stood in silence, watching as the landscape below was illuminated in vivid colours, and all the daemons faded slowly away. The light felt purifying in some way, and for a moment Noctis was able to take everything that had happened that night—the fallout with Ignis, both his talks with Luna, the Ring and the terrible nightmare, and simply push them away. They were behind him now—and ahead was the sunrise—the end of everything.

The moment lasted until the light had reached both their faces, and slowly, as though in a trance, they were both able to pull themselves away from the sunlight, and back into reality once more.

“The dawn has a very restorative effect, doesn’t it?” asked Luna, still sounding slightly dazed.

“Yeah, I think it does,” said Noctis, just beginning to pull himself back together.

“I’m sorry to cut our meeting short Noctis, but I really must get back to where I’m staying now—people will begin to wonder where I am,” said Luna, who was now back to her usual calm, dignified self.

“It’s fine, I’ve got to get back to my friends too,” said Noctis, dearly hoping they hadn’t woken up yet. “And I haven’t forgotten about our plan—we should have the uniforms by tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it,” said Luna, smiling before turning and walking away up the street.

Noctis took one last look at the sun rising in the sky, before turning and walking slowly back towards the Leville. On this occasion, his friends could probably wait for at least a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up for the next few weeks, this is something of a pre-warning that I'm about to be engulfed in exam season, and as a result won't have a lot of time for writing. I've already got a few chapters lined up already written, but once I've posted those, I'm not sure whether I'll be able to continue updating weekly until my exams are over, so just an early warning!
> 
> As for the chapter itself, this was one of the ones I've been really looking forward to writing, as we see so little of Luna's real feelings regarding both her imprisonment and Ravus's perceived betrayal, so I really had fun expanding on that. Not to mention Ardyn's reappearance! He's been biding his time for a while, but he's finally going to make his move fairly soon, so I'm really anticipating that too!
> 
> Thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter and let me know if you did!


	23. A Moment of Peace

It was still quite dark in the hotel room when Noctis returned, the light of dawn not quite having reached the windows that opened out onto the room, allowing him to slip back in unnoticed. None of the others had woken yet. For a moment he debated getting back into bed and trying to salvage what little time to sleep he had left, but then he remembered the awful nightmare that woken him in the first place, and thought better of it. Instead he decided to prepare for the day a little in advance—there was a lot they needed to accomplish and he hadn’t been conscious while they were discussing most of it.

First he got changed back into his usual clothes and tried to arrange Ignis’s jacket where he’d left it, hoping Ignis wouldn’t notice that it was a little more crumpled than usual. Then he flopped down into a chair next to the coffee table, on top of which lay their worn copy of a map of Eos. He usually kept the map, along with almost all of their healing items and miscellaneous junk, in the Armiger, but he’d allowed Ignis to examine the map while driving and had forgotten to ask for it back in the intervening time. Not that he particularly needed it—he knew Lucis like the back of his hand, but it rankled him that he’d forgotten.

The map looked a little different than it had before though, and, peering over it, Noctis saw that it had been annotated, and various parts of it had been circled, marking them as important. Most of the places circled appeared to be fairly random, and he was unable to attach any particular value to them—others were disturbingly familiar: Costlemark was circled in red, and had ‘Royal Arm?’ written next to it in large letters. Looking a little closer, Noctis saw that all of the circled locations were annotated with questions—several with ‘Royal Arm?’ a few more with ‘Haven?’ and last but not least, a few with ‘Imperial Base?’

The most worrying thing on the map by far was the speculative locations of the Royal Arms. Noctis knew the location of each one, of course, but neither Ignis, nor Prompto nor Gladio seemed to have forgotten that he needed to collect them, and, given what the Ring had done to him not a few hours ago, he was starting to think that gathering any more of them would begin to seriously jeopardise his health. He certainly wouldn’t dare use the Ring again in a hurry, and the last thing he needed was to put his Armiger out of order as well. Perhaps he could convince them to focus on the havens and Imperial bases first?

He tried to put the thought out of his mind. What they needed to concentrate on today was stealing the uniform and IDs of the Imperials allowed into the Disc. Luna had told him that the people most likely to be allowed in would be the Colonels posted in Duscae, though, with them usually being hidden away in Imperial offices, the Lieutenant Colonels might be a safer bet. Noctis was already fairly sure he knew where these Lieutenant Colonels were: namely, ordering the patrols around Lestallum—so they’d be fairly easy to take out. He still wanted at least one of them to have a Colonel’s uniform though, if only for safety—but that would take a bit more effort.

Luna had told him that the Colonels would be the ones planning out the patrol routes and generally organising the Infantry, so they spent most of their time holed up in offices, which were usually out of reach of the general public. In order to sneak in unnoticed, Noctis suspected that he’d need to use his warping abilities, and that meant leaving the others behind, which they would doubtless not be pleased about. Still, he needed to work out where to _find_ the Niflheim offices first, which was more of a challenge than it sounded, as he’d never run into such a place on his travels last time.

He was interrupted in his musings by a loud _b-ring b-ring_ sound, as Ignis’s alarm went off. It was promptly silenced as Ignis sluggishly turned it off, and there were indecipherable mumblings as everyone began to slowly wake up. To Noctis’s surprise, by far the most awake the most quickly was Gladio, who, the moment he became fully conscious, shot up from where he was sleeping and started looking around wildly.

“What’s wrong big guy?” asked Prompto, slightly slurred, as though he wasn’t fully awake yet.

“It’s Noct—he’s not here!” said Gladio, with a distinct note of alarm.

Noctis was very confused for a couple of seconds before realising that his eyes had long ago adjusted to the darkness in the room, and Gladio probably couldn’t see him yet.

“It’s alright,” he said, rising from his seat and stepping forward into the dim light cast by the doors which opened out onto the balcony. “Couldn’t sleep well so I got up early.”

Gladio sighed deeply and collapsed back down onto the bed.

“Just about gave me a heart attack there Noct,” he said, reaching out blindly to turn on the lamp next to the bed.

“Hey, that’s not necessary—the sun’s already up, you know?” said Noctis, opening the doors a bit wider and letting more light pour into the room.

“Hey, what kind of weird alternate reality is this?” asked Prompto, now sitting up in bed and blinking furiously at the light. “Noctis is the first out of bed? I call bullshit. Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

“It’s really me,” said Noctis with a slightly nervous laugh. “Nightmares are killing me, you know?”

“What, again?” asked Prompto, now well and truly awake. “You’re having it real rough aren’t you dude? When was the last time you _didn’t_ have some nightmare?”

“A while ago,” said Noctis, trying not to think about how utterly exhausted he really was. “Not like they can go on forever though, right?”

He attempted to sound upbeat as he said this, but instead only sounded deeply tired. He sighed to himself—considering when the nightmares had started, he was beginning to suspect that they were connected to his time-travel, which meant they weren’t going away any time soon.

“I guess,” said Prompto, though he didn’t sound overly optimistic, still too tired to do anything but squint at Noctis from where he was sitting. “Hey, you’re all changed and everything! How long have you been up anyway?”

“I imagine a few hours at least,” said Ignis, rising blearily from the bed, and then bending down to sort through his suitcase.

“I don’t know,” said Noctis truthfully, since he had no idea he’d spent pursuing Ardyn and talking to Luna, only that it had been some time before dawn. “Long enough though, I thought you guys would never wake up.”

“Ah, now you know how we feel every morning,” said Gladio with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Noctis, rolling his eyes.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” asked Prompto, sitting forward towards the end of the bed and looking at Noctis expectantly.

“We need to get those uniforms to get into the Disc with Luna, remember?”

“We can talk about our plan of action over breakfast,” said Ignis, opening the door to the bathroom to get changed. “But I expect you two can fill Noct in on what we talked about last night in the meantime?”

“Sure thing Iggy,” said Gladio, rising from the bed and stretching. Ignis nodded and closed the door behind him.

“So, what’s the news? What have you guys been planning without me?” asked Noctis, flopping back down into his chair.

“Well, we were thinking, since you need to collect the Royal Arms and everything, that after we deal with the whole Titan thing we should go looking for them all over Lucis,” said Prompto, rocking forward onto his toes, clearly excited by the prospect.

Noctis was not so enthusiastic. This apparently showed on his face because Gladio chuckled and shook his head.

“Hey it’s not so bad—we’ve already marked out some places we think they’re likely to be hidden away—look,” he said, walking over and pointing to the map.

“Yeah, I saw just before you guys woke up,” said Noctis, trying not to grimace. “That’s still a lot of places, you know?”

Of course, that did work to his advantage—if they really insisted on going looking for the Royal Arms he could always take them to places he knew they definitely weren’t, but even so, there were a few too many accurate guesses for him to be entirely comfortable with the plan.

“Eh, we won’t have to think about it for a while—not until we’ve dealt with Titan at least,” said Gladio, sitting down in the chair next to Noctis and shrugging.

“Yeah,” sighed Noctis, and he couldn’t help but wonder what meeting Titan would be like this time around.

Would he realise that Noctis had already earnt his blessing? Probably not, given Gentiana had shown no signs of knowing he’d travelled through time when he spoke with her. Still, he was fairly sure he’d at least be able to understand Titan this time—whatever power Luna had summoned when she unlocked his full Armiger, it had allowed him to understand the Astrals just like her. Whether or not this would actually allow him to _communicate_ with Titan on the other hand...that was a different matter.

He still held a vague hope that one of the Astrals might be able to explain what had happened to him, since he was fairly sure that going back in time after death wasn’t exactly standard procedure, as far as death went. He tried not to get his hopes too high though, as a niggling sensation in the back of head told him that the Hexatheon weren’t going to be of much help to him this time around. Why, he had no idea—but the thought was there all the same

He tried to push down a sense of frustration he felt rising in his chest as he thought about the Gods. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt a vague sense of anger when thinking about them, and, like so many other things he’d been experiencing recently, he got the innate sense it was somehow connected to his time-travel. Or was it his death? Did he feel angry about his sacrifice? He didn’t think so—he’d done what was necessary, and while the Gods might have partially caused it, he’d been the one to fix it, and he’d gotten some small satisfaction from that. Or at least, he was pretty sure he had...it felt difficult to remember—as though it had happened a long time ago. Longer than it actually had at any rate...though the past week had felt like at least a few months so perhaps he was simply too tired to think straight.

“Hey Noct? Noooct?” said a voice very close to his ear.

He shot up from where he’d been slouching in his chair, almost causing his face to collide with Prompto, who turned out to be the one alarmingly close to his beloved ears.

“Woah there, easy!” said Prompto, dodging out of the way in a flash. “You kind of spaced out there for a minute dude, everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wasn’t paying attention—sorry,” said Noctis, rising from his seat and realising he must have been thinking for longer than it’d felt like, because everyone had gotten ready while he was lost in his musings.

“Are you ready to have breakfast Noct?” asked Ignis, looking down at him over his spectacles with a subtly menacing smile, as though saying ‘just try and get out of eating this time, just try it and see what happens.’

Noctis knew better than to try and protest at this point, though he knew full well it was going to be an intensely unpleasant experience—what with not having had a full meal in several days now. Still, he was definitely going to have a hunger-induced fainting fit if he didn’t break his starvation streak soon, so perhaps it would be for the best. Perhaps that was why he still felt so profoundly exhausted and just generally unwell. That and literally everything else that was happening to him, of course.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, admitting defeat in the face of a higher power.

“Let’s go then.”

* * *

Thankfully breakfast turned out to be mostly uneventful, with the exception of Noctis having felt the intense and deeply uncomfortable feeling of being both extremely hungry and extremely sick the moment he’d tried eating again. He should have broken his starvation streak earlier, but it had never seemed like quite the right time for it. In any case, things had been going relatively well until the topic of how they were going to actually _get_ the uniforms came up…

“So these ‘Lieutenant Colonels’ will be patrolling all around Lestallum today?” asked Prompto, taking a big bite out of the sandwich in front of him.

“Yeah, I think it’s because Luna is here—Imperials want to keep an eye on her,” said Noctis, stirring his soup unenthusiastically around in the bowl.

“Stop playing with your food Noctis,” said Ignis, giving him a sharp look. “It’s unusual that with the tightening security around Lestallum that the Imperials would have such lax protocol around the Disc, don’t you think?”

“It _is_ a little bit weird,” said Gladio, downing the orange juice next to his plate, then shuddering slightly. It must have been cold. “Do the Nifs just not care who gets in there?”

“About that,” said Noctis, realising the conversation had come around to the topic he’d been avoiding since they began talking about it. “Luna did also say that we should get a Colonel’s uniform, just to be sure we’ll get in.”

“What wrong with that, Noct?” asked Prompto. “You look kinda down.”

“What he’s ‘kinda down’ about is that a Colonel’s uniform will be really hard to find,” said Gladio, folding his arms and frowning. “Colonel’s aren’t really field officials, so to find one we’ll need to break into a Nif office, am I right Noct?”

“Yeah,” sighed Noctis, slumping back in his chair. “I might be able to get in easier than you guys though—since I can warp in and everything.”

“So what you’re saying is you think we should split up,” said Ignis, with a frown.

“Listen, I know I’ve been acting weird and that you guys are worried about me, but I think I can take this one. I know it didn’t go so well last time I went out on my own, but there won’t be any daemons in a Nif office, right?”

Noctis tried not to think about how the closest thing to an Imperial office he’d ever been in had been absolutely infested with daemons. Still, it was a bit early for anything like that yet. Even if Ardyn _was_ lurking around somewhere.

“I suppose that does sound reasonable…” said Ignis, though he was still frowning deeply.

“Keep your phone with you, and remember to call us if you need backup,” said Gladio, looking pointedly at him.

“Will do,” said Noctis, staring right back, trying to prove he could do this. “But we don’t need to split up just yet—I don’t even know where the Imperial offices might be in Lestallum. Even Luna doesn’t know—seems like they’re pretty secretive about that stuff.”

“Hardly surprising, given the strong loyalist sentiment in Lestallum,” said Ignis, looking thoughtfully into his coffee. “If everyone knew where the offices were, the Imperials would likely be run out of the city within a matter of days.”

“So what we’re looking for is a building that’s totally inconspicuous. Got it,” said Prompto, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, could do with a few more suggestions than: ‘it’ll look like literally any other building,’” said Noctis, taking a sip of his tea.

“Sorry Noct, I think you’ve drawn the short straw this time,” said Gladio, smirking.

Noctis just sighed and rolled his eyes, flopping back into his seat.

“Are we all about done here?” asked Ignis, looking pointedly at Noctis and his still half-full bowl of soup.

“I’ll be sick!” Noctis protested, but Ignis was already huffily clearing the table.

So much for pleasing _him_ that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another chapter! Considering how much I've been putting Noctis through the ringer lately, it was probably high time for him to get a bit of a break, so he can prepare for some uniform snatching later! Also, it's been soo long since he's actually spoken to the bros as a proper group so it was about time for them to actually get some of their stuff sorted out, it was actually quite relaxing to write their group dynamic again. 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and if so, let me know!


	24. A Warning of Things to Come

The moment he stepped outside, Noctis could tell it was one of those days where everything felt perfect. The temperature was warm but not too warm, and a cool breeze was blowing at his back. The air was light and not too humid, and the sun was shining brilliantly overhead, the sky a dazzling blue, speckled with light fluffy clouds. In other words—far too nice of a day for doing anything other than lounging around in the sun, which was what the majority of Lestallum’s population seemed to be doing. Noctis tried not to feel too jealous. 

“So, where to first?” asked Prompto, bounding up beside him. 

“Main square?” said Noctis, who couldn’t help but glance over at the alleyway he’d chased Ardyn down that night. 

Was he still here somewhere?

“That does seem the most likely place to send a patrol,” said Ignis adjusting his glasses slightly in the glare of the sun.

“Let’s get going then,” said Gladio, beginning to take off towards the alleyway without hesitation, and Noctis walked considerably more hesitantly behind him.

His friends seemed to mostly know their way around Lestallum now Noctis noticed, a far cry from their pouring over a map of the city in the beginning. For a moment he felt like there was something missing, and he abruptly remembered that Iris had already been sent away with Jared, all the way over in Cape Caem. They’d need to visit at some point, if they found the time. It felt strange, her not being there to show them the sights this time. He tried to shake himself—she was safe there, he shouldn’t be worrying about her. But still…

“Hey Gladio, have you heard anything from Iris yet?” asked Noctis, hoping to seem nonchalant. 

“I dunno, why do want to know?” asked Gladio, teasingly. 

“To make sure she’s safe,” said Noctis, trying not to feel guilty for forgetting. “I never checked to make sure she got to Cape Caem okay or anything, I guess I just remembered.”

“She’s fine Noct,” said Gladio, softening slightly at Noctis’s obvious agitation. “Apparently Talcott’s having the time of his life helping with the garden they’ve got over there. Jared’s the same as ever though.” 

“Thanks Gladio, it’s good to know they’re okay.”

“Anytime.”

They continued to walk in relative silence for a while, and Noctis quickly felt his mind drifting. It seemed like so far his actions had mostly been working. Jared was still alive and well, and no monstrous force had tried to smite him where he stood for trying to change the fates of those around him. On the other hand, there were still a few things troubling him, not least the conspicuous absence of Ardyn. Perhaps he was only noticing it because he was now so acutely aware of Ardyn’s true nature and what he wanted to do to him, that any change felt incredibly unnerving. Well, he had appeared once in Lestallum already, so his caution was probably grounded in reason. Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself, as he glanced continually down every dark alleyway he spotted. 

“Hey, something worrying you Noct?” asked Prompto, tapping him lightly on the shoulder, taking care not to startle him. 

“It’s probably nothing, just keep thinking I see someone,” said Noctis, a little distantly. 

“Really? Who?”

“No, it’s nothing, I’m probably just imagining it,” said Noctis, shaking his head slightly in an attempt to ground himself in reality. 

“Well, if you say so,” said Prompto, who still looked a little doubtful. “Say, you don’t think they have ghosts in Lestallum, do you?”

“Ghosts? Why just in Lestallum?”

“Well, who knows?” said Prompto, shrugging his shoulders. “I hear all kinds of weird stuff happens in that power plant of theirs.”

“I’m like eighty-percent sure it’s not a ghost,” said Noctis, who privately thought Ardyn was more of a zombie. 

“Just a theory dude! Keep an open mind.”

“Will do,” said Noctis rolling his eyes and then walking straight into Gladio’s outstretched arm. 

“Shhh!” hissed Gladio, who’d frozen in place in the middle of the street, listening for something. 

Noctis was immediately on his guard, and also began to listen for whatever it was Gladio had heard. As it turned out, what he’d heard was fairly easy to notice, even if you were as distracted as he was. Not too far away, a few streets at best, Noctis could hear the dull beat of around twenty metallic feet marching in unison, right towards where they were standing. They’d found the patrol. 

“Find cover, quickly!” whispered Gladio, grabbing Ignis by the shoulder and rushing into the shop opposite. 

Noctis was about to follow suit, but it seemed the patrol had been nearer than he’d thought, because they seemed very loud now, and without really thinking what he was doing, he grabbed Prompto’s forearm and sprinted back the way they’d came, into the darkened alleyway, and hoped beyond hope that the patrol was keeping to the main streets. 

It didn’t take long for them to come into view, their metallic armour glinting in the sunlight as they marched rhythmically to a simple beat. These weren’t MTs, robots build for war, these were cyborgs, mixtures of human and machine, modified for combat far beyond a normal person’s capabilities. Of all the array of weapons at the Empire’s disposal, the Imperial Infantrymen were by far the most unnerving to Noctis. Did these people consent to the modifications? Were they simply injured beyond the scope of modern medicine? He didn’t know, but what he did know was that whatever the truth was, he didn’t want to hear it. That was one mystery he could live with. 

There weren’t many of them, but there were enough to give Noctis pause—certainly he didn’t want to fight all of them at once. What would they have done if they’d caught sight of him? He shuddered to think, not least given the damage it would probably do to the city itself. His eyes were still locked firmly on the street when he felt a slight poke at his arm, and he realised he was still tightly grasping Prompto’s forearm and quickly loosened his grip, turning back to him and mouthing ‘sorry’. Prompto just shrugged, then opened his eyes a little wider than usual and pointed back at the street, where something strange was happening.

The infantrymen had broken ranks and were beginning to spread out across the street in a deeply menacing manner, as though looking for something—or someone. He could see them turning their metallic helmets from side to side, like they were scanning the area, and as one of them grew closer and closer to where he and Prompto were standing, he thought as fast as he could about where they could hide. He glanced around the alleyway they were crouched in. There were rubbish bags scattered around, but none of them big enough to conceal even a child, there were no doorways on the street and to all appearances, nowhere to hide. Then he looked up, and could see a ledge sticking out just above them. He knew what he had to do.

“This will feel weird,” he whispered to Prompto, who looked confused for about a split second before Noctis grabbed him under the shoulders and flung a sword as high into the air as he could. 

Channelling his magic energy as coherently as he could, he warped up to the sword, hanging in mid-air for a split second before throwing his sword back down onto the roof and warping back to it, throwing Prompto forwards as he did, making sure he’d reach the rooftop. He landed on his feet, but the forward momentum immediately made him fall to the ground, and he only just remembered to roll to cushion his spine. 

For a few moments, he just lay looking blankly up at the sky and wondering what had just happened to him, before abruptly pulling himself together and scrambling to his feet to look for Prompto. Prompto was lying a few feet from him, and still appeared pretty dazed from the whole experience, but when Noctis lightly shook him by the shoulders he appeared to come back to life. 

“That...was awful,” he mumbled, pushing himself up on his arms and shaking his head from side to side, as though trying to dislodge water from his ears. 

“Yeah, made me feel kind of sick the first few times I did it,” said Noctis, remembering how ill he’d been the first time he completed a successful warp. 

“Bleh, no kidding.”

“Hang on, I want to see if the patrol’s cleared off yet,” said Noctis, already rushing to peer cautiously over the side of the building. 

“Whatever,” muttered Prompto, and Noctis heard a dull  _ thump _ as Prompto let himself fall back to the ground. 

Looking down into the alley, Noctis could see that they’d made a very timely escape as the infantryman was just clunking back out of the alley into the main street, presumably having gone down and returned. He breathed a slow sigh of relief. They were safe. For now. He briefly glanced down into the street proper to check Gladio and Ignis hadn’t been discovered, and fortunately it seemed the investigative powers of the Imperials were limited to the  _ streets _ of Lestallum. Painfully slowly, they began clunking back up the street, away from where he and Prompto were hiding. 

“Don’t worry about me,” called Prompto from behind him. “I’m only having the worst case of motion sickness ever! It’ll probably be fine.”

“Right, right, I’m coming,” said Noctis, returning to where Prompto was still lying splayed dramatically on the roof and crouched beside him. “Think you can get up?”

“Sure dude, just as soon as the world stops spinning,” said Prompto, covering his eyes with his hand. 

“How are you going to know like that?” asked Noctis, holding back a chuckle. 

“Oh I’ll know...probably,” he said, parting his fingers to take a cautious glance at the sky. “Nope, no, still not good. Wait, you’re not gonna have to warp me back down are you?”

“Um…” Noctis took a cursory glance around the roof—nothing really seemed climbable. “No?”

“So, yes, is what you’re saying.” 

“I didn’t—”

“—Prompto! Noctis! Where are you?” shouted a voice from below them, a voice Noctis quickly identified as Ignis. 

“We’re here!” called Noctis, rushing back over to the edge of the roof to look down onto the street, where, sure enough, Ignis and Gladio were standing below them. 

Noctis saw Gladio’s eyes widen a touch when he saw Noctis so high up, and Ignis’s mouth opened slightly with shock. He tried valiantly not to laugh. 

“I warped us up when the Imperials started coming over to us,” he yelled, attempting to explain. “Prompto’s got pretty bad motion sickness though, so I don’t think we can warp back down.” 

“Typical,” Gladio snorted, and Noctis realised that his hearing must be considerably sharper than usual if he’d managed to catch that remark. 

Perhaps it was something to do with that usual focus he’d been experiencing?

“Hang on, we’ll look for a way to get you two down,” shouted Ignis, who began walking around to the other side of the building. 

“‘Kay, I’m going to check Prompto’s alright.”

He glanced back over at Prompto as he said this, and saw that he’d now managed to lift himself up onto his elbows, so he must have recovered a little. Seeing Noctis looking at him, he raised one of his hands in a tentative thumbs up. Noctis began walking back over to him. 

“Did you get all that?” he asked, sitting back down at Prompto’s side.

“It’d be hard not to dude, I’m surprised the whole street didn’t hear you!” said Prompto, laughing slightly, then frowning and gripping his stomach. 

“Don’t strain yourself,” said Noctis, looking him over cautiously. “But yeah, it seemed pretty empty down there. Not surprised people want to avoid the Empire.” 

“I guess,” said Prompto, a little absently. 

“Do you want to rest a bit more? I’ll come and get you when we find a way off this roof.”

“Yeah sure,” said Prompto, lying back down, and crossing his arms over his chest.

It didn’t take long for Ignis to find a ladder they’d overlooked and, with Noctis’s help, they managed to get Prompto the ground safely and without any sickness. Once they were back on solid ground, Noctis noticed a worried glint in Ignis’s eyes—something was bothering him. 

“What’s wrong Ignis?” asked Noctis, following him as they walked back out of the alley and onto the street, which was slowly filling up with people again. 

“That last scrape was too close for comfort, I don’t want to be caught off-guard by a patrol again,” he said, looking wearily back up the street for any sign of the Imperials returning. 

“Ignis’s right, and we need to find a way to separate the Nifs if we want to steal anything from them. There’s no way we can take all of them on at once,” said Gladio, sitting down on a nearby bench. “Ideas, anyone?”

Noctis noticed Ignis was looking at him rather intently, as though thinking about something.

“Ignis, you got anything?” he asked, gently prodding him into speaking. 

“Yes, though I doubt Prompto here will like the idea,” said Ignis, side-eyeing the still somewhat woozy Prompto. 

“Nah, go for it,” said Prompto, looking dazedly in Ignis’s direction.

“My idea was that you, Noctis, might be able to create some distraction to draw the Imperials to your location, splitting them up, and leaving half for Prompto and you to deal with and half for me and Gladio to deal with.”

“Huh, that’s not a bad idea,” said Noctis, leaning back against a wall and thinking of ways he might be able to cause a distraction. 

“I don’t see what’s so bad about that Iggy, I  _ can _ fight you know,” said Prompto, who seemed a little offended.

“I haven’t fully explained yet Prompto,” said Ignis, chuckling. “In order to ensure the Imperials are drawn to your location, I thought that Prompto might act as ‘bait’ so to speak.”

“What? I’m not hurting Prompto—not even for an act. No way,” said Noctis, immediately standing up straight again and ready to thoroughly argue the point—he’d already had plenty of practice arguing with himself.

“No that’s not what I meant Noctis, don’t worry. I was merely suggesting that Prompto ought to go up to the Imperials and ask for assistance with whatever issue Noct decides to cause to make sure that they act.”

“Can’t say I’m jazzed about that idea either Iggy,” said Prompto, frowning slightly. 

“Perhaps not Prompto, but can you think of any better options?” asked Ignis, pushing his glasses up his nose in a somewhat superior manner.

“I guess not,” sighed Prompto, leaning back on the bench. 

“It’s decided then,” said Ignis, then turned back towards Noctis. “Any ideas yet Noct?”

“You know,” said Noctis, with the first genuine smile he’d had in a while, “I think I might have just the thing…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! It's good to have all the bros back together again, I've really missed them acting as a cohesive unit. Writing this chapter also made me wonder about the actual presence of Niflheim in Lestallum in the game proper, since it's hinted they're everywhere—the patrol that captured and killed Jared, all the stuff that goes down in the AC DLC, but so far as actual gameplay goes, there's nothing. Not that I'd want every trip to Lestallum to be a stealth section mind you, writing it's a lot more fun than playing it, but still, it does feel a little weird. 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and if that's the case, feel free to let me know!


	25. Into the Offices

As Noctis stood alone in the alleyway, he pondered exactly what it was he thought he was doing. The plan he’d suggested had been fairly simple: go into a nearby alleyway, find something flammable, wait for a signal, then summon lightning to dramatically explode said item and attract the attention of the MTs. So far Noctis had that part covered. He was standing fairly nonchalantly by a large wooden crate which would likely go up in flames the moment lightning struck. If not…well, he’d just have to improvise. The main thing was that they needed to split the patrol up in whatever way possible. And he always had Prompto as a backup.

As he stood alone in the silence however, he found his mind wandering again.

He still had distressingly little idea what he was actually doing. He now knew for a fact that Ardyn was lurking around Lestallum somewhere, probably waiting to get the drop on him, and his only plan for that scenario was to kill him as soon as possible. He still didn’t know whether or not he actually _could_ kill Ardyn, or whether he actually did need to gain all the Gods blessings again. He still didn’t fully know whether or not he wanted to _die._ He knew he’d have to to end everything, but could he really do it here, now, without letting his friends know his fate, or why he had to do it?

Could he just leave them with his body to mourn his seemingly senseless suicide? No, was the answer resounding in his mind, but behind that reassurance lay a deeper knowledge that, actually, he might well do that. He had no reason to just yet, but if push came to shove, he was tangentially aware that the main thought in his mind would be of killing Ardyn and _not_ of the suffering of his friends. He tried not to feel too guilty about it. Technically, he was saving them, along with most of humanity, from a terrible, terrible fate by dying. But would that even mean anything if they had no idea what might lie in store for them?

He still hadn’t gotten anywhere even close to a solution when his attention was suddenly caught by a vibrating in his pocket. It was his phone. It was his signal.

Now paying attention once more, Noctis concentrated as hard as he could, focusing his mind and body into channelling the magical energy flowing through him, and with a loud _crack_ lightning came blazing down to earth, sending pieces of the crate flying in all directions, fire already beginning to lick up the demolished sides. A little further down the street, he could hear the rapid footsteps that meant Prompto was breaking out into a run to find the Imperials and lure them to where they lay waiting.

It had also been decided during the plan that Noctis ought to stay well out of sight for the duration, to avoid reinforcements being called in and the city going into lockdown. Looking around, he quite suddenly realised that he had distinctly neglected to think about anywhere to hide. He remembered his little incident with Prompto earlier though, and, looking up, saw a lovely open window just above him, perfect for warping to.

Throwing his sword high into the air and over the edge of the balcony, he entered the room just as he began to hear the loud, clanking footsteps that meant the Imperials were rapidly approaching. Hopefully Prompto would be able to handle them on his own. He had experienced a few battles now after all…

However, Noctis’s worry about Prompto was very quickly overtaken by worry for himself as he turned to get a good look at the room he’d warped into. The colours inside were disturbingly familiar. Thoroughly decked out in white and red, the flags that adorned the walls made the owner of the room nigh on unmistakable. He’d found the Niflheim offices. The building had been just as inconspicuous as Gladio had suggested it would be, _so_ inconspicuous he hadn’t even realised until he was inside.

He tried to push down the panic rising in his throat, forcing himself to think that he wouldn’t have to stay there for too long. From the rapid gunshots he could hear from just below him, along with the occasional burst of manic laughter, he guessed the battle was going well. Still, while he was there it would be a shame for him not to at least try and look for a uniform, even if he _was_ petrified of being found.

Whoever owned the office was clearly not one for meticulous organisation, that much was obvious. There were piles of paper heaped up on their desk, and coffee cups and sweet wrappers were piled high on the low table in the middle of the room. That was probably why they’d carelessly left their window open. Just glancing around, Noctis couldn’t see any sign of a stray uniform lying around, but he wouldn’t know anything unless he looked around a little. For some reason he found himself drawn to the desk, though he couldn’t see anything like a jacket draped over the back of it, or even a badge of any description.

His attention was arrested, however, by a memo that was lying haphazardly on top of a fairly large pile of papers, and what had attracted his attention was a name. ‘Chancellor Izunia.’ Well, now he had proof of his suspicions at least. He felt his eyes drifting over the rest of the memo, and as he read further, he felt his heart rate rising.

‘Chancellor Izunia been acting increasingly erratically of late, must check orders with High Commander. Why more MTs in Lucis? Population shows no sign of rising in protest, but MTs may incite action. Chancellor also showing signs of paranoia, continues to talk under breath about previously mentioned ‘idiot boy’—possible fallout with High Commander? Advise double-checking any subsequent commands.’

That did not bode well. Ardyn was definitely angry with him, and Noctis did not like the strong implication that Niflheim was about to more heavily annex Lucis than ever before. That could go very badly, very easily. He needed to find a way of either stopping or confronting Ardyn, and soon.

He was stopped from outlining any more of a concrete plan however, as he heard heavy footsteps approaching from down the corridor just outside the office. Noctis needed to leave, stat. He rushed over to the window, but the fight was still in full swing below him, and the footfalls growing ever closer to his position. Spying what appeared to be a closet in the corner of the room, he ran over to it as silently as he could, and wrenched the door open, diving inside and closing it behind him just as he heard the main door to the office creak open behind him.

The darkness surrounded him on all sides, and he began breathing slowly, trying to calm his heartbeat as the owner of the office clumped by where he was lying hidden. Once he was sure they had passed by him, he carefully manoeuvred his way over to a slight crack in the door, and peered through to see the identity of whoever owned the office. The owner appeared to be a tall, muscular man, with a ruddy face and an impressive blonde moustache. His build was quite close to Gladio’s...perhaps Noctis had had a stroke of luck after all. He quieted his musings however as he realised the man was speaking to someone on the phone.

“But High Commander, surely you cannot—” he said, sounding fairly flustered. “But she’s— … Of course I don’t question your loyalty to the Empire, sir— … But she’s your sister! Not to mention the Oracle—the public will be up in arms!”

Oh _shit._

“...Yes, I understand, sir,” said the Colonel, sighing deeply as he ended the call.

Well, that had just made things a whole lot more complicated. Noctis was fairly sure Ravus hadn’t just ordered his underlings to actually _kill_ Luna, but he was willing to bet a fairly large sum of money that she was going to be forcibly escorted back to Tenebrae whether she liked it or not. He needed to find her, as soon as possible. But first he needed to get his hands on that uniform.

Waiting until the Colonel had his back turned to where Noctis was hiding, Noctis gently pushed open the door, drew a broadsword from his Armiger, and, using the blunt end, brought it down hard on the man’s head. He dropped instantly to the floor, and Noctis dearly hoped that his injuries were limited to concussion, before beginning the fairly monumental task of taking his uniform. His friends were going to be in for quite the surprise when he got back to them, in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a moment of pure competence on Noct's end! I was originally going to make obtaining the uniforms into a bit more of an epic, but what with Noct's powers, it just didn't make much sense, so this chapter's a bit shorter than usual. 
> 
> Also, a final warning, this is the last chapter I have stocked up! So there'll probably be a break for at least three weeks while my exams are going on, possibly more, depending on how long it takes me to get back up to speed again. I will be posting some other stories I wrote a while ago for Ladies Week, and those will be going up while my exams are still going on, so just a heads up if you wonder why I'm not posting for this instead—it's because I filled those prompts a while ago. 
> 
> Anyway, as always, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and if so, let me know!


	26. Towards Titan

It had grown late, Noctis realised, as he emerged from the Niflheim offices and looked down at the street below. The sky was still bright, but long shadows were being cast over the city and the street was almost entirely in shadow. A chill wind blew over him as he stepped out onto the window pane. He needed to get to Luna as soon as possible if they were going to pull this off today. Not to mention he still needed to warn her about Ravus’s plans. 

“Hey, Noct, are you good?” called a voice from below him. 

He looked down to see Prompto waving at him from the street, still surrounded by the broken shells of MTs that had been shot to pieces. Thankfully, he seemed mostly unscathed. 

“Yeah, you’ll never guess what’s up here though,” yelled Noctis, before throwing a sword down to the floor and warping down to where Prompto was waiting. 

“Whoa, you almost took my head off there dude!” said Prompto, backing away from him with a laugh. 

“I wasn’t even close, dumbass,” said Noctis, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, look at what I found up there.”

With these words he reached into the Armiger and produced the Colonel’s uniform with a dramatic flourish. 

“Stroke of luck, right?”

“Dude. Is that what I think it is?” asked Prompto, taking the uniform in his hands and looking over it. 

“Sure is. Turns out Niflheim’s offices really  _ are _ well-hidden, I certainly couldn’t tell what they were until I got inside.” 

“So, what, this was just lying around in there?” asked Prompto, incredulous. “That’s crazy. Hey, maybe it’s because of all the bad luck you’ve been having recently, huh?” 

“I wish,” sighed Noctis, recalling the conversation he’d just overheard. “Listen, we’ve got to get back to Luna as soon as possible. From what I overheard while I was in there, they’re going to start going after her, and soon.” 

“Wait, what? But she’s been here for a day already!”

“Yeah, I think these are new orders from whoever’s leading them,” said Noctis, unsure if he was supposed to know that person was Ravus just yet. 

“Shit, that’s bad,” said Prompto, looking around nervously and biting his lip. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” said Noctis, trying not to think about what would happen if the Empire got their hands on Luna before she could forge the covenants. “But did you find any uniforms that look like they might fit?” 

“Noct, these are MT uniforms, they’re going to notice if I stroll up wearing one of these without being made of metal,” said Prompto, rolling his eyes. 

Noctis couldn’t help but flinch a little internally. Well, Prompto definitely didn’t know about his true origins yet, but he still felt awful for forgetting, given how sensitive the situation would become later. What was he thinking? 

“Hey, don’t feel too bad dude, I bet Ignis and Gladio found something!” said Prompto, apparently having noticed him having a little moment. 

“Yeah, sure,” said Noctis, trying to pull himself back together. “Let’s go find them.” 

It didn’t take long to find Ignis and Gladio, who were similarly surrounded by MT corpses. They’d actually begun clearing the bodies away though. 

“Ah, you’ve returned,” said Ignis, noticing the two of the approaching from the corner of his eye and turning to greet them. 

“Yeah, and you’ll never guess what we found while we over there,” said Noctis, preparing to brandish the uniform once more. 

“Noct found the Nif offices!” said Prompto, beating him to it. 

“Really?” asked Gladio, frowning, as though he couldn’t believe it. 

“Sure did, found this too,” said Noctis, finally taking his opportunity to show off the uniform once more. 

“You found a Colonel’s uniform?” asked Ignis, similarly astounded. 

“Hey, don’t seem so surprised!” said Noctis, a touch offended by the rampant doubt in his uniform-stealing abilities. “I thought it looked about Gladio’s size, so I guess you’re going to be the one in command,” he said, tossing the uniform in Gladio’s direction. 

“Hmm, looks about right,” said Gladio, turning it over in his hands. “We found some uniforms for you two as well, and one for Iggy, of course.” 

“Seems like we’ve had a stroke of luck this time, yes?” said Ignis, looking fairly pleased. 

“Oh, yeah, about that,” said Noctis, feeling more than a little awkward about raining on their parade. “We need to find Luna as soon as possible—I think the Imperial Army is after her.” 

“What?” asked Gladio, simultaneously outraged and confused. 

“I overheard one of the Nifs talking about it while I was stealing this,” said Noctis, gesturing towards the uniform. “Seems like it was a sudden change of plan going by how flustered he was. But she’s definitely in danger. We need to find her.”

“Well, the person we’d usually turn to for that information would be  _ you _ Noct,” said Ignis, frowning. “You seem to know where she’s likely to be better than we do, at any rate. Did she tell you where she wanted to meet us?” 

Noctis wracked his brains trying to remember their last conversation—he couldn’t remember her telling him a location, only that they’d meet today. Presumably she’d been planning to track him down herself. Not that that would be particularly hard, given the devastation they’d just caused. 

He scowled in frustration—there was no way he’d be able to run around the city to try and find her without the Nifs getting there first. The only advantage they had was time—the order had been given mere minutes ago, so there was no way the Nifs had mobilised yet. Where was she most likely to be? Luna’s job was to heal people, she’d spent most of yesterday in the healing tent—it was more than possible she’d still be there today. It was a little tenuous perhaps, but better than nothing, and they needed to move quickly. 

“I might have an idea,” he said, addressing his friends once more.

“See, you have a knack for this Noctis!” said Ignis, apparently very pleased by this development. 

Noctis wasn’t sure whether he had a ‘knack’ for it, or simply several years more experience than they did. It was one or the other. 

“She’ll probably still be in the healing tent, that is her job, you know?” 

“It’s as good a start as any, I guess,” said Gladio, though he still seemed a touch unenthusiastic.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” said Prompto already jogging off down the street.

Noctis found himself instinctively going after him, the memory of Ardyn still looming large in his mind. He couldn’t allow one of them to go off alone, the chance of something going wrong was much too high. 

He managed to keep pace with Prompto right up until they reached the tent, at which point Noctis quickly overtook him and immediately went inside, looking all around for any sign of Luna. He didn’t have to look far. She was administering to an elderly man, lying prone on one of the beds. It hurt him to take Luna away from her duties like this, but it had to be done. He went up to her side. 

“Luna,” he said, taking a moment to catch his breath. 

“Noctis?” she asked, looking up at him in surprise. “Have you got everything already? I expected you to be longer…”

“Yeah, we have, and we also have news,” he said, willing his voice not to give out on him. 

Apparently his concern showed though, because Luna sighed to herself. 

“I can tell by your face that it isn’t  _ good _ news,” she said, looking at him with tiredness in her eyes. 

“No, it’s not. The Empire’s coming after you—I heard Ravus ordering it over the phone.”

“Ravus?” she said, and for a moment she seemed so shocked Noctis briefly wondered if he’d said something non-time-compliant again, but she quickly recovered her composure. “I should have expected this. He will not want me to forge the covenants.”

“I’d ask you why, but I think we’re on kind of a time schedule here,” said Noctis, glancing around for any sign of Imperial soldiers. 

“I understand, let us go quickly,” said Luna, rising from her seat and moving towards him—but not before leaning over the elderly man and saying a short prayer. 

They hurried out of the tent together to see Prompto, Gladio and Ignis all waiting nervously outside. 

“Do you guys have the car ready?” asked Noctis, not particularly hopeful. 

“Sorry, we forgot,” said Prompto, a little sheepishly. 

Noctis quite suddenly noticed that all three of them were looking at Luna with a fair amount of awe. He realised quite suddenly that he was in the presence of not just Luna, his childhood friend, but also Lady Lunafreya, Oracle of Tenebrae, who none of his other friends had met before. Awkward. 

“Will there be room in your car for me Noctis?” asked Luna, looking somewhat worried. “If there isn’t I can find some other way to travel to the Disc.”

“There’s room Luna, we just need to get there without any Imperials spotting us,” said Noctis, still scanning the streets for MTs. 

“Yes, and that could prove to be quite the task, given we’d be travelling with the Oracle,” said Ignis, the first to pull himself back together after the shock of seeing her. 

“Indeed,” said Luna, frowning. “I’d get changed in order to be less conspicuous, but I understand we’re on something of a time limit.”

She glanced over at Noctis, and he felt his chest tighten slightly. He wouldn’t feel guilty about this. They needed to get to Titan, and Luna needed to get as far away from the Imperials as possible. How long had it been since he’d heard the order being given? Not very, so it was still possible none of the other Imperials knew yet. 

“If we go quickly, like, right now, it’s possible we can make it out of here before anyone knows otherwise,” he said, already beginning to head down the street. “The order was only just given. It’s possible they don’t know what’s going on yet.”

“That’s a large risk Noct, it might put Lady Lunafreya in danger,” said Gladio, following cautiously after him. “You sure what you’re doing?”

“If you have a better idea Gladio, then please, share it with the group,” said Noct, a touch snappily, and quickening his pace. 

“No, I don’t, I just want you to think this through,” said Gladio, who, thankfully, didn’t seem to feel slighted by Noctis’s anger. 

“It’s fine—Gladiolus, was it? I am quite capable of taking care of myself,” said Luna, who was keeping pace with Noctis and holding her head down to try and avoid suspicion. “If Noctis thinks we can get there in time then I trust him.”

“On your own heads be it,” muttered Gladio. 

They managed to make swift progress towards where they’d parked the car, and it seemed Noctis had been correct about the orders not having circulated yet. Just as they were approaching the car, and Noctis could finally feel his spirits lifting, however, a voice called out behind them. 

“There! That’s her! She’s getting away!”

Noctis didn’t even bother to turn around and see who it was, he just started bolting towards the car. 

“Run!” he yelled over his shoulder, already wrenching the door open and practically jumping into the seat. 

He quickly turned on the engine and grabbed the steering wheel, fully prepared to slam on the accelerator the moment they were all in the car. Luna got in next to him, and Ignis, Prompto and Gladio all stumbled into the back. He was already flying up the road out of Lestallum before Prompto could tell him to ‘step on it!’

“Why aren’t they firing on us?” asked Noctis, when his brain had stopped completely panicking. 

“I don’t think they want to  _ kill _ me,” said Luna, looking tentatively over her shoulder. 

Noctis had already guessed as much, but his friends seemed surprised. 

“They never seem to have as much sympathy for us,” said Prompto, almost sounding offended. 

“You aren’t a part of the Empire. I am,” said Luna, and though there was humour in her voice, Noctis could hear the underlying tone of bitterness. “They wouldn’t want to hurt their assets.”

“O-oh, right,” said Prompto, a little awkwardly. 

“Anyway,” said Noctis, eager to turn the conversation in a less uncomfortable direction, “Luna, you said Ravus won’t want you to forge the covenants—why?” 

“Sorry,” said Prompto, interrupting, “who’s ‘Ravus’ again?”

“Ravus is my brother,” said Luna, completely serious now, “and the High Commander of Niflheim’s military.”

“What! How did that happen?”

“Sometimes I wonder myself,” said Luna, with a wry smile. 

_ “ Anyway, _ _”_ said Ignis, who was apparently more interested in the covenants. 

“Yes, of course,” said Luna, leaning back with a sigh. “Ravus won’t want me to forge the covenants with the Gods—doing so will have a...detrimental effect on my health, so he is very much against it.”

“Would you mind telling us how detrimental, Lady Lunafreya?” asked Ignis, with the same tone of voice he used when he was cautioning Noctis against something dangerous—albeit far more polite. 

“It will likely endanger my life,” said Luna, her voice monotone and firm. 

She clearly didn’t want to argue about the matter. Noctis could understand the feeling. 

“I...see,” said Ignis, now hesitant, knowing he could hardly reprimand the Oracle, though clearly wishing to do so. 

For a moment there was silence in the car, and though Noctis was keeping his eyes firmly on the road, he could feel the tension in the air. In a rather grim way, he was glad he wasn’t the only one whose self-sacrificing nature caused awkwardness. 

“So, do you know what will happen when you forge the covenant with Titan?” asked Gladio, finally breaking the silence. “Will we have to fight him?”

“It’s possible,” said Luna, who seemed happy that the conversation had turned to a different topic. “Noctis will certainly have to complete a trial in order to earn the Archaean’s blessing, though only the Archaean himself can determine what the trial is.” 

“That could make things...complicated,” said Gladio, with a sigh. 

“Indeed, and I must warn you that if Gentiana deems the trial too dangerous, she will likely take me away from you,” said Luna, her voice grim. 

“Understood, and thank you Luna,” said Noctis, and he would have given her a reassuring glance if he hadn’t been so concentrated on driving. 

“Not at all Noctis, it is my duty, after all,” said Luna, and he could hear the smile in her voice. 

“We’re almost there,” he said, and began to slow the car down, making the executive decision that they probably shouldn’t be seen driving up to the blockade in a vehicle known to belong to the royal family. 

“Good idea Noctis,” said Ignis, quickly realising what his plan was and getting out of the car with the others. “Lady Lunafreya, you said Gentiana is able to get you past the blockade?”

Luna opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly cut off by a voice behind her. 

“Indeed,” said Gentiana, continuing in her usual manner of suddenly appearing out of nowhere. “The High Messenger is able to take the Oracle through the blockade without the knowledge of others.”

“It’d be helpful if you could do the same for me,” said Noctis, a touch sardonically. 

Gentiana appeared to understand the reference to their earlier meeting and smiled passive-aggressively. 

“The High Messenger’s duty is to the Oracle first,” she said, before grasping Luna by the arm and saying, “Are you ready Lady Lunafreya?”

“Yes, Gentiana.”

And with those words they both disappeared before his very eyes. He was never going to get used to that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray, I'm back! I hope the break wasn't too taxing on any of you, but I should be back to updating every week as normal for a while. If anything changes I'll let all of you know. 
> 
> I've got to say though, I'm really looking forward to the upcoming chapters since things are about to really start moving now! This chapter was a lot of fun too—it was great to see the whole gang reunited, albeit, if only for a short while. And, of course, Luna is back, which is always fun for me. 
> 
> In any case, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and if so, let me know!


	27. Titan Wakes

“Does she do that...a lot?” asked Prompto, looking dazedly at the space where Gentiana and Luna had just been.

“Yep,” said Noctis, already reaching into the Armiger to retrieve the uniforms.

“Weird,” said Prompto, shuddering.

“So, you want me to be the ‘leader,’ right?” said Gladio, looking over the uniform Noctis handed to him.

“That’s the idea,” said Noctis, as he clambered into his own uniform and the others followed suit.

“Just to clarify Noctis,” said Ignis, already frowning, “what exactly are we going to do with the Regalia? We can’t leave it parked outside an Imperial blockade.”

“Um, yeah,” said Noctis, remembering just what had happened last time they did that.

He might not have met Ardyn in person since Gladin, but he’d bet his right arm that Ardyn would waste exactly no time taking the Regalia again if given even half the opportunity. But how to get it away from here? An idea was already surfacing in his mind. A terrible, terrible idea. He knew even as he thought about it that it might come under the top ten stupidest things he’d ever tried to do if he actually went through with it. But it was better than being deprived of the Regalia again, so he had to at least try it.

“Everyone stand back,” he said, and began to focus his energy on the body of the Regalia.

This was so, _so_ dumb.

“What exactly are you planning to do Noctis?” asked Ignis, from behind him. “Staring at it won’t make it disappear—wait, you’re not—”

Ignis cut himself off as it became apparent that, yes, that was _exactly_ what Noctis was trying to do. Noctis was trying to put the Regalia in the Armiger. It was probably the most dangerous thing he’d tried to do since coming back in time, but he’d be damned if the Empire managed to get their claws into it again. Besides, he was committed now.

He focused all of his magical energy into feeling the mass of the Regalia, and as he got closer, he could actually feel himself starting to transport it. His fingertips buzzed and his brain was slightly foggy, but once he’d begun to move it he could feel it sliding out of the physical plane, almost like he’d tipped it over a cliff. What was more surprising was how...easy it felt—almost practised. It was that strange focus again, only this time it was assisting with his magic, rather than enhancing his concentration.

As the entire car finally passed completely out of the physical plane and into the Armiger, he felt almost all of his energy drain away, and Gladio quickly caught him under the shoulders as he staggered forwards.

“Okay Noct, I want you to level with me here,” said Gladio, looking down at him with concern. “What the _fuck_ did you just do?”

“It’s in the Armiger now,” said Noctis, fairly blearily.

“I got that part!”

“Well I suppose it _will_ be safe from the Imperials there,” murmured Ignis, who looked like he was trying to rationalise what had just happened to himself.

“I guess?” said Prompto, a few octaves higher than usual.

“Hey, it worked didn’t it?” complained Noctis, coming back to himself.

“Yes, I suppose it did. Technically,” said Ignis, pushing his glasses up his nose and sighing slightly.

“So, what’s our next move?” asked Prompto, clearly eager to move on from the incident as quickly as possible.

From the look on both Ignis and Gladio’s faces, Noctis guessed that he would, at the very least, be getting a lecture later.

“We get through the blockade,” he said, moving to look around the corner which blocked his view of it.

“What’s our story for why we want in?” asked Gladio, immediately back to business.

“Standard patrol?” asked Prompto.

“No, they’ll instantly know something’s wrong if we say that,” said Ignis, frowning. “We need something better than that—something they won’t question us about.”

Slowly, an idea began to form in Noctis’s mind. It just might work—though he was more than a little tentative about voicing it. It had worked last time, albeit in a slightly different way. Still, it was now or never.

“We could say Ardyn wants us to go in,” he said, though even as he said it he could hear the nervousness in his voice.

“Um, who?” asked Prompto, looking at him with confusion.

“Oh, right,” said Noctis, suddenly remembering that he’d never actually explained to them who Ardyn was after the incident at Galdin. “Ardyn’s the Imperial Chancellor, when I overheard the Colonel talking about Luna he mentioned that Ardyn was starting to go...kind of nuts? We can use that to our advantage.”

Of course, Ardyn had always been nuts, but they didn’t need to know that just yet.

“Are you sure about this Noctis? We have no idea what this Chancellor is even like, whether he even has the authority to send people into the Disc in the first place,” said Ignis, doubtfully.

“If he’s the Chancellor then he definitely outranks whatever mooks they stuck on guard duty,” said Gladio, who seemed a little more optimistic. “If we sound firm enough we can probably just intimidate them into letting us though, no questions asked.”

“Exactly,” said Noctis, already knowing that with Ardyn’s weirdness track-record they could probably stroll up without disguises and demand to be let through on his word alone.

“Sorry, it’s three against one Iggy,” said Prompto, smiling sympathetically before pulling his visor down.

“Fine, just don’t blame me if this all goes wrong,” said Ignis, grumpily pulling his own visor down.

“We all set?” asked Gladio, looking back over at Noctis.

“Let’s go,” said Noctis, with one final smile before pulling his own visor down.

As they strolled over to the blockade, they were quickly noticed, if the sounds of scuffling behind it were any indication.

“Please state your business here,” said a loud, echoey voice coming through what Noctis could only assume to be a microphone.

“We’ve been sent by the Chancellor, he wants us to scout this place out,” said Gladio, projecting his voice as loudly as he could, then glancing back at Noct for reassurance.

Noctis gave him a subtle thumbs up.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, given what Noctis knew of Ardyn already, there was a snort from whoever was holding the mic, and they resumed speaking with barely held back laughter.

“My sympathies,” they said, and the blockade began to open.

“What was _that_ about?” asked Prompto, clearly confounded.

“Perhaps it’s dangerous back there,” said Ignis, ever the most cautious.

“Perhaps,” said Noctis, who was struggling not to snigger himself.

As they walked through the blockade, Noctis found himself paying close attention to the Imperials stationed on the gate—Gladio was right, they were low-ranked, and mostly human. Almost the opposite of the intense resistance that had brushed up against going after Titan last time. He felt a niggling feeling in the back of his head again—he’d forgotten something, but bit by bit, small pieces were falling into place.

He’d assumed that, so far, he hadn’t really changed anything. But maybe he was wrong. Perhaps there were changes happening all around him, unseen, because they weren’t happening to anyone he knew. Had Ravus tried to capture Luna so early last time? He didn’t know, and had no way of knowing, now that that version of her was gone. Dead? He had no way of knowing _that_ either. He tried to focus himself on the task at hand as they left the Imperials’ line of sight.

“So are we just gonna wait around until she shows up or—”

Prompto cut himself off as Gentiana appeared out of nowhere, with Luna still holding onto her arm.

“Well that answers that,” said Gladio, amused.

“Are all of you ready?” asked Luna, although she looked pointedly at Noctis.

“I think so,” he said glancing around at the group, and they each gave him a nod or a reassuring smile.

“Then let’s go,” she said, before turning and leading the way towards the altar where the Tomb of the Mystic once stood.

Noctis was surprised he remembered that fact. It hadn’t seemed particularly relevant at the time. Perhaps now he knew the Mystic was Ardyn’s brother...oh shit. Another Royal Arm. Noctis suddenly felt a wave of apprehension washing over him. He couldn’t afford to weaken himself just before fighting Titan, and if the incident with the Ring was any indication then gathering another Royal Arm could prove excruciating. Dammit.

“Hey, what are you scowling about buddy?” asked Prompto, his voice quiet, probably trying to avoid the attention of the others.

“It’s nothing,” said Noctis, though his voice caught slightly in his throat. “I’m just...worried, I guess.”

“She’ll be okay,” said Prompto, sounding oddly serious for once. “We won’t let anything happen to her.”

“Hmm.”

It wasn’t Luna he was worried about. Last time they were almost burned alive by lava when they were done fighting Titan—as though fighting him hadn’t been enough of a challenge already. This time they had no way out, since he got the distinct sense that Gentiana would remove Luna from the situation the moment Titan began to start smashing things. He was trying to think of an escape route, and coming up completely empty.

“Hey, Noct?” said Prompto, and now he sounded nervous about something. “Do you think...do you think I could talk to her?”

“Sure. I don’t think she’d be offended, if that’s what you mean,” said Noctis, a little taken aback by this question.

“Cool! Right, I’ll just…” he trailed off and then left Noctis’s side, jogging up to Luna, who was walking a little way ahead of him.

He couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, as Prompto introduced himself to Luna, and she smiled and talked back to him, but he tried not to worry about it. Did Prompto have some connection to Luna he didn’t know about? He couldn’t remember it coming up before...but then again, there were a lot of things he didn’t know about the people close to him, something he was starting to increasingly understand, as his journey through time was rather painfully teaching him.

They were almost at the altar. The moment of reckoning had arrived. Luna walked purposefully up to the centre of the of the small circular platform in front of her, and as she did, Gentiana handed her something he hadn’t seen until now. The Trident. He tried to push down vivid memories surfacing in his mind, of Luna dying, of Shiva’s cold, crystalline form as she handed it to him. He had to stay focused.

“Noctis,” whispered Ignis, having crept up behind him while he was distracted. He willed himself not to jump. “Can you see at the end of the platform? Another Royal Arm.”

Noctis could see, and between the shock of seeing the Trident and the sudden scare Ignis had given him, the sight of it was starting to make him feel distinctly light-headed. Not mention mildly nauseous.

“We can get it after the covenant is forged,” he said, in an attempt to offset his nervousness.

“Of course,” said Ignis, ducking away again.

A silence settled over the group, all of them waiting for something to happen. Then Luna began to sing.

It was a haunting melody, and as she sang, it seemed almost as though her voice was no longer her own. The sound was magnified and refined as it bounced around the interior of the Disk of Cauthess, growing louder and more melodious each time it echoed off the walls of the crater. It wasn’t quite the same song that had woken Leviathan. Similar, but not the same. That was good, it meant he could concentrate.

Just as the song rose to a point where it almost became deafening, it suddenly became quiet, almost soothing and then stopped completely, and silence fell over the crater once more. Then, in its place, an impossibly deep, almost earth-shaking voice took its place.

“Who has woken me?”

It was the voice of Titan. This time, he could understand.

“It is I, Lunafreya, Oracle of Tenebrae,” said Luna, her voice echoing across the crater once more.

“What do you seek, Oracle of Tenebrae?” asked Titan, as the ground began to shake beneath them.

“I wish to forge a covenant with you, that the Chosen King may reclaim the Stone,” she said, and the shaking grew more intense.

“Where is this ‘Chosen King?’” asked Titan, and the shaking reached its zenith, as his massive head rose from where it had become embedded in the rock below, and massive fragments of stone began to fall from his head and body, colliding with the earth below, creating a terrible noise.

Noctis could hear the others gasping from just behind him. He did not gasp. Instead he stepped forward, onto the platform, with Luna.

“I’m here,” he said, and both Titan and Luna turned to look at him.

Luna with an expression of raw shock, Titan with what Noctis could only assume was curiosity. It was hard to tell when his face was so large.

“You understand him?” asked Luna, confusion palpable in her voice.

“Yeah?” said Noctis, who had realised by that point that he really shouldn’t be able to understand Titan at all, and had quite possibly just massively screwed up, yet again.

But then he paused. Titan hadn’t lashed out at him yet, perhaps this _would_ work after all.

“Perhaps this one truly _is_ the Chosen King,” said Titan, as though pondering something. Then he frowned. “But there must be a trial. Defeat me, ‘Chosen King,’ and my power is yours.”

“I will,” said Noctis, already pulling a sword out of the Armiger, as Titan leaned back to swing at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! (Apologies for being slightly late.) Noctis is really starting to take control of the narrative now, which makes writing him a little easier, thank goodness. We're also really moving the plot forward (at long last) so I'm really quite excited about these next few chapters, since a few things might become more clear. Also—Luna and the bros finally get to talk to each other! That was a long time coming. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and if so, let me know!


	28. The First Trial

The moment before Titan’s fist came crashing down on top of him, several things happened all at once. First, Gentiana appeared immediately at Luna’s side, and, in less than a second, she was gone, and Luna was gone too. Second, his friends, who, up until that point, had been standing behind him, all rushed up onto the platform to come to his aid, with Gladio attempting to throw himself in front of Titan’s blow. Third, there was a distant hum, one that it was possible no one else heard, that alerted Noctis that an Imperial airship was coming. The people at the gate had probably heard the commotion by now. 

It was in this situation that Titan’s fist finally came crashing down to earth, completely shattering the platform the four of them were standing on, and causing them to come careening back down to the ground, many feet below them. Noctis instinctively warped down to the ground, hoping the others wouldn’t fall too badly. He was already up and on his feet by the time they landed roughly behind him. In any other circumstance, he’d check to make sure they were alright, but now Titan’s palm was rushing down towards him, threatening to crush him. So, with all his strength behind him, he prepared to counter the blow. 

The pressure from the hand was immense, and Noctis could almost feel his knees buckling underneath him, but he repeated the same mantra over and over again in his head—he had to do this. And he did.

Titan’s palm went glancing over his head, and Noctis could feel his whole body trembling with the force that had just been exerted on him. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then immediately went to check on his friends—they were his main priority. They were also, fortunately, mostly unharmed by the fall. Prompto was already looking around groggily on his elbows, Ignis was straightening his glasses, and Gladio was just beginning to stand. 

“You guys okay?” asked Noctis, still wanting to check in with them.

“Yeah, I think so,” said Prompto, hopping up onto his feet having regained his bearings. 

“All good over here,” said Gladio.

“And me as well,” said Ignis.

“Okay,” said Noctis, giving a short sigh of relief. “He’s not gonna go easy on us, so let’s give this everything we’ve got, alright?”

“Just say the word, Noct,” said Ignis, already drawing out his daggers. 

Noctis turned to take stock of the area they’d landed in, noting that they were still a fair way above where they’d fought the last time. He wasn’t sure he wanted them to end up all the way down there again though, not with the threat of lava looming in the background. No, they’d have to fight Titan from the sidelines as best they could. 

It was just as he was thinking this that he heard a colossal shaking once more, meaning Titan was already gearing up for another attack. He needed some way to reach Titan’s hand, so he could weaken it with ice—that had been the most effective thing he’d done last time. The obvious solution, while, well,  _ obvious,  _ was also very dangerous, and he didn’t feel quite ready to go for it just yet. But there was someone who might be able to come up with something in the meantime…

“Ignis,” said Noctis, turning back to face him, “I need a way onto Titan’s hand.”

“I—I’ll see what I can do,” said Ignis, a tad bewildered, but apparently willing to go through with the idea. 

Noctis didn’t have much longer to think things through however, as Titan’s fist now began to bear down on him once more. Once again he raised his sword in preparation. 

The fist went glancing to the side. He felt his knees becoming weaker. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see Prompto trying to fire on the hand as it moved away, and Gladio taking a long, if ineffective, swing at it as well. Seeing this seemed to give Ignis some sort of idea though, as Noctis saw his eyes light up all of a sudden. 

“Gladio, I’ve seen you do a training exercise with Noct before…” said Ignis, clearly formulating some sort of plan. 

“You want me to swing him up there?” asked Gladio, quickly catching on to what Ignis meant. 

“Ideally.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Noct?”

“Sounds as good a plan as any,” said Noctis, who was already thinking about what he was going to do once he was on Titan's hand.

“Okay, get ready,” said Gladio, positioning his sword so he could swing Noctis up and onto Titan’s hand the moment the opportunity presented itself. 

Noctis moved over to Gladio’s side, and grabbed his hand in preparation. Titan’s palm was bearing down on them once more. Noctis could feel Gladio tensing in anticipation. Then, without much more than a moment’s notice, he was flying through the air, up and over the top of Titan’s hand. He could see Gladio rushing to get out of the way below him. Then he was falling, and he landed with a  _ thump _ on the hard, rocky surface of Titan’s massive hand. 

He was disoriented, and the sensation only got worse as the hand began to move below him, turning in the air in an effort to dislodge him. Thinking as quickly as he could, Noctis swiftly jammed his sword into a crack in the rock and hung on for dear life as he went flying through the air. Titan was shaking his hand from side to side in an effort to dislodge him, but Noctis held fast to the sword, and it stayed rooted in place. It wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, but it gave him enough opportunity to do what he’d been planning to. 

Reaching into the Armiger, he briefly removed one hand from the sword to try and find what he was looking for, now hanging even more precariously. He could hear distant shouts below him. He did his best to ignore them and concentrate on keeping his grip from slipping on the pommel of the sword as his hands grew slick with sweat. He needed to speed up. Eventually he felt what he’d been looking for—icy cold to the touch—an ice bomb. He gripped it hard in his hand. It had taken three last time, but he was closer now, and his magic was more powerful than before. 

Suddenly, Titan flipped his hand over, and Noctis was on stable footing once more. This was the opportunity he needed. Without even thinking about it, he pulled the sword out of the hand and jammed the ice bomb inside the crack left behind. Then, he jumped. 

As he felt himself free-falling towards the ground, he detonated the bomb. He heard the colossal noise from above him, and stones falling in pieces all around him. He threw his sword to the ground and reached out, pulling himself back to the ground, back to safety. 

The moment his feet touched the earth he fell to his knees, his legs not strong enough to support him. Immediately Ignis was at his side and Gladio was standing in front of him, while Prompto ran all around, firing at Titan whenever he tried to make a move towards them. 

“Well done Noctis. I think you’ve greatly weakened him,” said Ignis, catching him by the shoulders before he collapsed completely and pulling him to his feet. 

Noctis looked blearily at his surroundings. They were still up high, far away from the bottom of the crater. Titan was missing a hand. They were close. 

“Watch out!” yelled Prompto, diving towards them and accidentally knocking Ignis off-balance. 

As this happened Noctis could feel Ignis’s grip on his shoulders being released, and then he could feel himself falling once more. But then he  _ kept _ falling. And as he looked down he could see the ground far, far beneath him. He had just about enough consciousness to throw a dagger to the floor before he hit.

For a moment everything went black. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. All of his senses were gone. Then he...felt...something. Not a voice but a presence, old, very old and it was...speaking to him. 

“You have succeeded in your Trial Chosen King,” it seemed to say, though there were no words that Noctis could make out. “My power is yours. Use it wisely.”

Then there was pain. Agonising pain, as his vision went white, and it felt as though every nerve in his body had caught alight. This was worse than the Ring—worse than any pain he’d experienced before. But then the light faded, and he saw something. Himself? A figure, shrouded in blazing white light and it was...screaming. White cracks were emanating out of them and into the surroundings, everything around them was becoming warped and broken…then it was gone. 

He could see black rocks beneath him. He tried to lift his head to see where he was, but it ached to move, like it had after he’d fought the daemons. He managed to turn his head to the side, and, above him, he saw a dark blue sky, peppered with stars, blotted out by one single blemish. An airship was bearing down on him. He could faintly see someone standing at its open doors. Then he felt pain rising through him, and his consciousness falling away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter was super fun to write! Less fun for Noct and co. though, they really have to pull out all the stops on this one. It's always interesting to me to think about how much strength Titan actually has, and, conversely, how much strength Noctis has. Canonically, I'm guessing a fair bit on both sides. Also, the spectre of the Imperial Army is beginning to creep in once more, which means the plot is really about to be kicked into high gear! So, I'm very excited, is what I'm getting at.
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter, and if so, let me know!


	29. Plaguebringer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's time for more warnings! There's already a warning for graphic violence in the tags, but this is probably the most graphic chapter to date, and I wanted to provide an extra warning so no-one feels too uncomfortable. So, without further ado, there is someone being bound against their will, torture and deliberate infection of a dangerous disease throughout this chapter, so please stay safe!

The darkness all around him was suffocating. But this time he knew where he was, and he knew what he had to do. He could see, through the thick, choking blackness, a distant light. Warm, strong, and safe. He ran towards it—or maybe swam towards it. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was reaching the light. He was strong enough. If he could just reach the light.

But even as he moved closer and closer, he could see it flickering, slipping away. He couldn’t let this happen! He tried to run harder, to swim faster, to catch up with the light as it flickered and flitted just out of his grasp. He still couldn’t breathe. He needed air. He needed light. He was going to die here. He couldn’t die! Not yet. He still had so many things he needed to do. He had to save them.

He couldn’t breathe. His lungs were aching. His vision was growing dim.

It wasn’t fair.

Why did it always end this way?

* * *

Noctis awoke with a jolt. The last thing he remembered was an airship bearing down on him as he lost consciousness. He’d fallen down into the centre of the crater. Titan had cut him off from the others. He had more power now. It had hurt so much...but now only a dull ache throughout his body remained. That was probably a good thing. Less good was the situation he now seemed to be in.

He was in a sterile, but familiar-looking room. The carrier part of an Imperial airship. All around him were powered-down MTs, empty shells, sitting lifelessly in their pods. He himself was sitting in what probably looked like a similar position. He was slumped over in a chair that he quickly realised he’d been strapped into. His wrists, legs and chest were tightly bound by thick leather restraints. He could barely move his limbs, even as he struggled as best he could against the restraints. He quickly tried to summon magic to his fingers to see if he could burn away the leather, but the intense heat from the tips of his fingers seemed to do nothing. Whoever had captured him clearly wasn’t taking any chances. This was bad.

“Ah, I see our wayward Prince has awoken,” said a quiet, but shudder-inducing voice from just out of Noctis’s line of sight.

The owner of the voice did not need to step into Noctis’s line of sight for him to identify who it was. He did anyway, perhaps just so Noctis had no way of denying to himself precisely how shitty the situation he’d just gotten himself into was.

Ardyn seemed...a little out of sorts. Though his demeanour was as condescending and inscrutable as ever, Noctis could see that there were dark bags under his eyes, and there was something a little strained about his trademark false affability. Usually his efforts to come off as sincere felt more laughable than intimidating—or at least, they had at the beginning. Ardyn had gone to great effort before to pretend that he was not a threat. Noctis could tell he was trying to do much the same thing now, but something wasn’t quite right. Something about his manner just read as...off. He was trying too hard.

Noctis didn’t know if he could sense this because he was well aware of Ardyn’s true intentions, because his earlier actions of violence had unnerved Ardyn, or because of the sharp, unnatural focus he’d noticed since going back in time. Perhaps it didn’t matter.

Ardyn was looking at him intently, even as he leaned casually against the MT pods. Watching for some sort of reaction. Some weakness he could prod at. Noctis wouldn’t let him get the upper hand. Not this time. He remained silent. Ardyn tilted his head.

“Not in a talkative mood, Your Majesty?” he asked, with a kind of poisonous, honeyed, _edge_ to his words.

He paused for a moment, almost as though giving Noctis one last chance to speak. Noctis kept his mouth firmly closed. Why wasn’t Ardyn just killing him?

“Perhaps not,” said Ardyn, sighing slightly and rather melodramatically sweeping his hat from his head, in an exaggerated movement of disappointment. “And here I was hoping you could enlighten me on a topic or two. Such a shame. We could learn a lot from each other you know.”

‘Could we now?’ thought Noctis, already thoroughly exasperated by this charade. What did Ardyn have to teach him? That the Astrals were fickle beings that didn’t value his life or anyone else’s? He was already well aware of that.

Wait...such bitterness again, and nowhere he could trace it back to. There was a deep dense fog in the back of his mind. He tried to shake himself out of it.

“Well, since you don’t seem to feel much like talking…” said Ardyn, who apparently still hadn’t gotten the hint, “how about we do this: I’ll ask you a question, you shake your head for no, and nod for yes. Simple enough, don’t you think?”

Noctis kept his head as still as humanly possible. Ardyn gave the barest hint of a scowl. Noctis tried not to smile. This time, he was the one who held the cards.

“You know, it really would be easier for both of us if you would just talk to me,” said Ardyn, sighing. “After all, I really do have very little influence in the Empire. It would be such a shame if they took matters into their own hands, so to speak. And they have much less interest in keeping you alive than I do.”

The room seemed almost to amplify the silence that followed, if a room could do such a thing. Noctis was undeterred. As though death had ever been an issue for him.

“I see,” said Ardyn, now actually frowning, and subtle, threatening _edge_ in his voice suddenly became considerably less subtle. “You know, it would be so easy for me to simply hand you over to the Emperor. He thinks the Crystal isn’t working because you’re still alive. Silly, naturally—but he’s ever so old now. What can you do?”

“I don’t know,” said Noctis, finally breaking his silence, knowing full well Ardyn wouldn’t call his bluff anyway. “What _can_ you do?”

“Ah, he _does_ have a voice,” said Ardyn, smiling smugly, like he’d won something. What he thought that _was_ exactly, Noctis had no idea.

Noctis simply rolled his eyes and leaned back in the chair. As best he could, anyway, what with still being strapped in it and all.

“And we’re back to silence,” said Ardyn, replacing his hat on his head with an irritated flick of the wrist. “Just when I thought we were making progress.”

Noctis just looked dispassionately at the ceiling and remained silent, while Ardyn folded his arms and leaned back on the wall of the carrier.

“This is all rather a mess isn’t it?” asked Ardyn, probably rhetorically, before sighing deeply and standing up straight once more. “You know, Your Highness, I feel we’ve gotten off rather on the wrong foot, don’t you?”

Now he was peering at Noctis with something approaching curiosity, an attempt at a reassuring smile painted on his face, and leaning down slightly, almost as though trying to make himself look smaller, less threatening. Of course, it didn’t particularly work, what with Noctis still being strapped into a chair and all.

“No, not really,” said Noctis, knowing that the Chancellor would simply take his silence as acquiescence if he said nothing.

“Interesting,” said Ardyn, and Noctis tried to repress a shudder. He had the sudden feeling that he’d said something very wrong.

“Is it?” asked Noctis, cautiously.

“It is to me,” said Ardyn, now with a confident smirk. He seemed to have found his footing again, and Noctis didn’t like that one bit. “You know, I’d heard so much about you Prince Noctis, how you were...how to put this…disinterested in your duties? How you cared so little for the rank and title granted to you, and yet...here you are.” At this point Ardyn turned with a dramatic flourish to face him once again, malice written in every line on his face. “Taking such command of your precious friends, almost as though they were more like...subjects.”

Noctis made a concentrated effort not to let his face change at Ardyn’s goading. He wouldn’t let him get to him.

“And then there was your treatment of me, of all people!” continued Ardyn, and now he seemed almost offended. “Surely you cannot blame me, a mere Chancellor, for what happened to your beloved Insomnia?”

“No, I couldn’t have,” said Noctis, several things suddenly falling into place all at once. “Since it wasn’t gone when I attacked you. Perhaps I just hate Niflheim, did that occur to you? Or are you going to tell me what this is really about before your throat gets sore from all this small talk?”

His words seemed to have an effect on Ardyn. His face changed from a confident smirk to a picture of...blankness. Noctis felt deeply uneasy. Ardyn was always putting on some kind of act, be it benevolent Chancellor, wronged monarch or simply a force of destruction. So seeing him so...blank, so featureless made Noctis’s skin crawl. He felt as though he was seeing into the heart of what lay under several hundred years of resentment, and at the core there was simply...nothing. And it was frightening.

Suddenly, without any kind of warning, Ardyn was leaning over him, his face mere centimetres from Noctis’s, and Noctis could smell a thick, choking scent—like decaying meat, or dark, congealed blood. The smell of the Starscourge. Ardyn had some kind of glamour about him, concealing his true appearance, but the smell almost made it come peeling away. Noctis could feel a deep pain just behind his eyes as his mind tried to reconcile what he knew with every sense to be true, but what his eyes were hiding from him. Ardyn smiled as he saw Noctis squirm with discomfort.

“You’re smarter than you look, aren’t you Prince Noctis?” he asked, digging his nails into to backs of Noctis’s hands. Noctis forced himself not to wince. “But what if I don’t want to tell you? What then?”

“Then I suppose we’re stuck,” said Noctis, doing his best to keep his voice level and his breathing constant in spite of the smell and the pain. “Aren’t we?”

“Hmm,” said Ardyn, retracting his hands and taking a step back. “Perhaps...but also, perhaps not.” He tilted his head towards Noctis is a surveying manner. “You don’t want to talk, that much is obvious. And I suppose threats of death won’t mean much to you, given how you went barrelling into those daemons a few days ago.”

He knew it. Ardyn had been watching him. Watching all of them. This was not good.

“But perhaps _this_ will make you change your mind.”

With those words, Ardyn reached deep into one of his long, ridiculous sleeves, and pulled a long, gleaming object from within. Noctis immediately recognised it. He’d seen it before.

In Ardyn’s hands was the dagger he’d used to kill Luna—so many years ago. For a moment Noctis felt his chest go tight. It was fairly clear what Ardyn was suggesting. But to his surprise, Ardyn did not start moving towards him. In fact, with an elaborate, deliberate movement, he raised his free hand in the air, and sliced the dagger down, across his palm.

As he did, Noctis felt an immense, agonising pressure in his forehead, as his perception of Ardyn was forcibly shifted. All at once he changed from a relatively normal human to Starscourged monster as a thick, black, ichor began to ooze from the cut on his hand. Noctis’s breath caught in his throat, and Ardyn turned to him with a look of bemusement.

“Not quite what you were expecting, Your Majesty?” he asked, as he twirled the dagger thoughtlessly in his hand. “Few are able to keep such composure as yourself you know.”

“What was the point of that?” asked Noctis, speaking without thinking, too surprised to even register whether or not it was a good idea.

“The point?” asked Ardyn, apparently genuinely surprised, before giving a short laugh. “Oh, you still haven’t realised, you poor thing. Well, let’s put it this way, you’re going to be getting much more familiar with the Starscourge from now on. I’d describe to you the agony you’ll be in, but that’s hardly necessary, after all, you’re about to experience it first-hand! It’s only fair, given the circumstances.”

Ardyn was now beginning to walk menacingly back towards him, a furious scowl now not even concealed on his pale, death-like face.

“After all, I was burdened with this when I faced the Gods, it’s only right that they should judge you by the same standard. Why shouldn’t you suffer as I’ve suffered?”

He was now crouched by Noctis’s side, and using his free hand to slightly loosen one of the leather bindings around Noctis’s wrist. Noctis quickly tried to lift his arm to elbow Ardyn in the face, or do something, anything to get away as the true horror of the situation began to sink in. But Ardyn grabbed his wrist and slammed his hand back down onto the arm of the chair, palm face upwards.

“Now, that wasn’t very nice, was it?” asked Ardyn, with a sneer.

Noctis spat at Ardyn’s face, and kicked at his bindings, trying to find some weakness, some way to escape. There was no way out. Now there was an immense tightness in his chest, and ringing in his ears, and he watched with horror as Ardyn wiped his face with a look of disgust.

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” said Ardyn, poison seeming to leak from his person into his words.

Slowly, almost deliberately slowly, he lined up the knife, still dripping with thick black ichor, with Noctis’s palm. Noctis did his best to throw Ardyn off, attempting to clench his fist, and move his arm, but Ardyn was incredibly strong, almost superhumanly so, and his arm remained put. Then he felt a strong pressure on one of the tendons in his arm, and, to his horror, his fist became unclenched, and he saw Ardyn pressing down on his forearm. Now Noctis was panicking. There was no way out.

He almost couldn’t bear to look, but at the same time, felt unable to turn away as Ardyn brought the knife down on the edge of his palm and sliced slowly across it, scoring his skin apart. He could only watch in mute terror as the black liquid leaked into the wound and _burned._

His hand was on fire, then the feeling spread up, throughout his body, as he saw the veins under his skin go black. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. But he was in agony.

He tried desperately to control his breathing as the colour faded again, like when white light had lit him up from the inside out as he touched the Ring. But this time, the pain didn’t fade. He still couldn’t speak. Ardyn looked at him with something that might once have been pity.

“No need to look so distressed, Your Highness, it won’t kill you right _now,”_ said Ardyn, now reaching down to undo the bindings around his legs. Noctis quickly found he was completely paralysed. “It might not kill you at all if you reach your beloved Oracle in time! You won’t. But it’s a nice thought, isn’t it?”

Noctis tried his utmost to kick Ardyn in the face for that remark, but his legs simply wouldn’t cooperate. He felt as though hot, white electricity was running through his veins, making it impossible to do anything but try to keep breathing. He didn’t dare look at the state of his hand.

“Ah, now you truly can’t speak, can you?” said Ardyn, almost as an afterthought, as he freed Noctis’s other arm, and then finally removed the strap around his chest. “Not to worry! Your powers of speech will return with time, though the same can’t be said for much else I’m afraid.”

Noctis wanted nothing more than to tear the man into tiny Starscourged pieces, but between the pain and the paralysis, found he could only grunt with derision. This didn’t have much of an effect on Ardyn, who now proceeded to put one arm under Noctis’s legs and the other behind his back, lifting him up from his seat as the massive door to the carrier began to open. For a moment Noctis genuinely thought that Ardyn was going to throw him out while he was unable to warp to the ground, but it quickly became clear that that was not the plan.

Instead of being unceremoniously tossed, it seemed Ardyn was instead going to...carry him outside? The airship had landed in the middle of a forest, trees seemed to stretch on forever outside the ship. Well, from what Noctis could tell anyway. He found his vision becoming increasingly hazy as the pain got worse.

Suddenly he felt an intense sense of vertigo, and realised he was now on the floor. He couldn’t tell whether or not he’d been dropped, but knowing Ardyn, he was willing to bet it was the former. His vision was completely gone now.

“This is where we say farewell, Prince Noctis. Sleep tight,” said Ardyn, and that, along with the humming of the airship as it took off once more, was the last thing Noctis heard, before passing out once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what a chapter huh? This is something I've been building up to for quite some time now, so I was very, _very_ excited to write it, even if it does involve some pretty terrible stuff happening to Noctis. Ardyn's really been biding his time, but this time Noctis really has pushed him to a breaking point, hence all the...terror he tries to inflict on him. Needless to say, this will have consequences. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed(?) this chapter, and if so, let me know!


	30. A Brief Recovery

It wasn’t dark this time. Behind his eyelids was a warm glow, almost like the sun shining down on him. Could the night have finally ended? He opened his eyes.

The sky was still dark, a vast expanse of endless blackness, but light shone down on him from all directions. He didn’t understand what he was seeing. Above him, spiralling into the sky and off in all directions, were the remains of a city. Streetlights perched precariously on mounds of earth were floating at strange angles, illuminating the area all around. A road was spiralling in pieces overhead, suspended motionless in the air. A shop hung upside down in the sky, the inside lit up as though nothing was wrong at all.

It was almost as though he was standing at the centre of a hurricane, but time had somehow stopped, leaving everything suspended strangely above him. He cautiously rose to his feet.

He had assumed, while lying on the floor, that he himself was on solid ground, and that the debris hanging in the air was merely an irregularity or an illusion. He quickly found he was wrong.

Not only were miscellaneous bits of urban debris hanging in the air, but he was actually standing on a part of one himself. Around him was an old, cobbled road, but instead of being surrounded by buildings on every side; where they might once have been, now there was simply darkness—an endless abyss, indistinguishable from the sky above. What was this place? He’d never dreamt of this before, even in his strangest nightmares.

As he looked around, trying to work out where he was, if he was anywhere at all, he noticed that the floating street he was standing in did seem to lead somewhere. That is, the road didn’t suddenly drop off into a heap of stones like the ones he saw above him. He began to make his way cautiously down the road.

As he walked, the landscape around him slowly began to change. The streetlights he saw above him gradually tapered off and were instead replaced by lights on houses, hanging alone in the air. The road began to change too, twisting at an angle that, in any other situation, would have caused gravity to take over. But it didn’t.

Noctis had only been somewhere like this once before. The Pitioss Ruins. But this was just a dream, so there couldn’t be any connection. Could there?

As the road bent and twisted, Noctis realised that the street he was walking on was familiar to him. He’d walked it several times now, both in dreams and the real world. His suspicions were confirmed as, rising in the distance, was the Lestallum power plant.

Above, below, and scattered all around him were the remains of the city. What happened? It hadn’t been like this when he left. Why was this happening? He didn’t understand. Something was wrong. Something...hurt.

At first it was only a distant pain, almost difficult to notice, but then, bit by bit, it grew worse. Noctis tried to continue walking, but the pain seemed to creep and crawl through his body, steadily growing more and more excruciating, until, despite his best efforts, his legs simply gave way beneath him, and he fell, numb, to the floor. He could still see the power plant in the distance. Why was this happening? Everything hurt…

* * *

 Noctis awoke to an intense bright light shining down on him. It took him several moments to realise that this was because the sun had risen, and it was daytime again. The first thing he realised upon waking, however, was that he was in agony. Or, more specifically, his hand was.

He was still lying flat on the ground where he’d been dropped earlier. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious and no idea where he was. What he _did_ know, was that he hadn’t felt this utterly terrified in an age. He almost didn’t _want_ to look at his hand, at the state it must be in, but he knew he had no choice. With a deep, almost electrifying anxiety, he lifted his right hand into his line of sight. It was all he could do not to throw up.

There was a deep cut running across his palm, from one side of his hand to the other. Rather than it being a dark, sickening red, however, it was instead an unnatural black. Around the cut, under his skin, the veins around the cut had begun to go black as well, and Noctis was vividly reminded of seeing the corruption spread throughout his body, under his skin, before fading away again. This was it. He was a dead man walking.

Looking at his injury just made him feel ill though, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it. He wasn’t going to use a potion on it, that would just seal the cut, and put the infection solidly under his skin. He knew he was probably already infected, and there was nothing he could do about it, but he tried to let himself hope that the cut would be better off if he let it heal naturally, and not deliberately get more Starscourge in his system.

He had no bandages, or anything to bind the wound with. At least he wasn’t bleeding out through it. He cautiously pushed himself upright with his uninjured hand. He could try to tear off a piece of his shirt to use as a bandage—he was hesitant to damage the clothes he was still wearing though. Then he remembered something—the Armiger. He still had his “future” clothes in there.

Without even thinking, he tried to reach into the Armiger with his right hand. He was immediately met with excruciating pain. Quickly withdrawing, he cradled his palm close to his chest and tried to work out what was wrong. Ardyn could use the Armiger—so it wasn’t that the Starscourge stopping him...or maybe it was. He didn’t know whether Ardyn could even _feel_ pain, after all. Frowning, he tried again with his other hand. No resistance. This could be bad.

Fishing his cloak out of the Armiger, he tried to go about tearing it without aggravating his injured hand, which was easier said than done. After clumsily trying to hold the material in place with his foot, he then used his other hand to worsen one of the rips already present due to his earlier skirmish with the demons. Eventually he managed to get a strip of cloth free. He quickly went about bandaging the wound. It was far from perfect, but at least he didn’t have to look at it anymore. Finally, he moved his glove from his left hand back over to his right, so he didn’t even have to see the bandage. Perfect.

He hesitantly got up, onto his feet, and actually took a look at his surroundings. He was in a clearing in a densely wooded forest, with no landmarks in sight. If he’d been a nature buff like Gladio, he’d probably have been able to identify his location purely of the species of tree all around him. But he wasn’t, so he couldn’t. At least he could rule out Liede as one of his potential locations. Not that that narrowed it down much. Still, he seemed to have regained his full range of movement again, albeit, with a very painful right hand, so the only thing to do was to try and find a way out of the forest. Probably _also_ easier said than done.

* * *

He’d been walking for at least an hour when the trees began to thin out slightly, and he got a better idea of where he was. He’d definitely been through this area before—he was somewhere in the Nebulawood, which meant the nearest outpost was Wiz’s Chocobo place. He remembered there being huge neon signs on the highway pointing out the establishment. Unfortunately, he was nowhere near the highway, and despite knowing where he was, still didn’t really know where he was going.

He stopped his trek for a moment to take some time to assess the situation. And rest. It was an incredibly hot day, hotter than any of the ones that had preceded it, and Noctis was already starting to feel the strain. An hour wasn’t much, considering the distances he’d trekked across Eos before, but with the sun seeming to bear down on him from overhead, his clothes sticking to him unpleasantly, and the sharp pain in his hand, along with the reminder of what it meant, Noctis felt himself struggling. Now the trees were thinning out, he also had less and less shade to take refuge in. It wasn’t like he had much other choice though, he still didn’t know where he was, and had no way of contacting his friends even if he did. He’d already checked his phone several times, but he had no signal out in the forest, making contacting anyone impossible.

Were they alright? Had they escaped Titan in time? He had no way of knowing. For someone who’d gone through all of this before, he spent a lot of time not knowing what was going on. He needed to keep moving though, he wouldn’t last long against daemons in this state. It was around midday, so he didn’t need to start seriously worrying yet, but the thought was still there, in the back of his mind. He started moving slowly forward once more. This would be much easier if there was anything but trees in sight.

He continued to stumble through thickets and trees and was close to taking another rest break when he caught sight of it. A sudden dip in the terrain just ahead of him. That could mean many things, but as Noctis went jogging towards it, it was quickly confirmed to be exactly what he’d hoped it was. A road. Finally.

He almost went stumbling down to run alongside it, but quickly realised that that probably wasn’t the best idea, after all, there were still cars that must drive along it, and he didn’t want to get caught up in an accident. He knew where he was now though, he’d driven along this road many times, and it led towards the Chocobo farm. He might be able to get help there.

He walked steadily a short distance from the edge of the road, no longer plagued by images of getting torn apart by daemons as soon as night fell. He’d been walking for around half an hour when the Chocobo farm came into view. Noctis felt an almost overwhelming sense of relief. He might actually be...safe there. It was odd, now he thought about it. He’d hardly given a second thought to his own safety for most of his trip so far, but what Ardyn had done to him… He shuddered, trying to get the image, the _sensation_ out of his head. It had hurt so badly...but he was alright now. Mostly alright, anyway. He couldn’t think about it too much. He’d just have some sort of breakdown. He couldn’t let that happen.

He jogged the final stretch up and into the small establishment, eager to get out of the forest as soon as possible. He’d been lucky nothing had attacked him while he was making his way there. Anyway, the most important thing was that this place would definitely have a signal, so he could finally contact his friends.

Drawing his phone from his pocket, he quickly dialled Ignis’s number. The reaction he got when the call was picked up was instantaneous.

“Noctis? What happened? Are you alright?” asked Ignis, already bombarding him with questions.

“I’m fine Ignis,” said Noctis, without even thinking, just glad _someone_ was at the other end of the line.

There was a deep, relieved sigh from the other side.

“Well, that’s something at least. Where are you?”

“I’m at the Chocobo farm, um, just down from Alstor Slough?” said Noctis, realising they hadn’t been there yet this time around.

“Right, I think I know where you’re talking about—what? Yes, I’ll tell him. The others want you to know they’re glad you’re okay,” said Ignis, sounding exasperated, but still pleased.

“Yeah, thanks,” said Noctis, starting to realise he may have made a mistake.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can, though it may take a while without the car.”

“Oh, right—wait, I have the car!” said Noctis, very suddenly remembering his stunt with the Armiger. That could have saved him some time. “Why don’t I come to you then?”

“No, it’s quite alright. I imagine you’ve been through something of an ordeal already. We’ll be there before nightfall, I promise you that, Noctis.”

“Alright, if you think so,” said Noctis, receiving a brief affirmation from Ignis before ending the call.

He hadn’t mentioned his hand to them—they didn’t know about the Starscourge. Should he tell them? No—they’d be angry at him from not mentioning it in the first place, plus, from some points of view, it wasn’t actually _that_ bad. His hand was the only thing that hurt, and, despite the sardonic malice in Ardyn’s voice as he’d said it, he _had_ presented a solution. All he needed to do was get to Luna, and then there would be nothing to worry about. And if he didn’t get to her in time—well, he’d known he was going to die for some time now. Probably not of the Starscourge, but still. He’d tell them if and when it became necessary. No need to add to their burden without reason. He’d done enough of that for one lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Oh boy, are there some bad, _bad_ decisions made in this chapter. Sorry folks Noct isn't quite free of incredibly poor decision-making yet, let's hope the Starscourge doesn't catch up with him too quickly. In all seriousness though, the situation hasn't really sunk in yet, and the moment it does...things are going to get bad. Real bad. So that's...a heads up I guess? This was a pretty hard chapter for me to write since I had to be really in Noct's headspace, but hopefully it came out alright.
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if so, let me know!


	31. Reunited

Despite Ignis’s warning, it seemed like no time at all until he saw his friends at the top of the slope that lead down to the Chocobo farm. He’d been sitting fairly sedately at a cafe table until then and trying dodge Wiz’s persistent questions about where he’d come from and what he was doing. When he saw his friends approaching, he quickly caught the opportunity to get away from the awkward conversation, making his excuses and getting up to leave as quickly as he could. It didn’t take long for them to catch sight of him. 

“Noct!” cried Prompto, immediately rushing over to him and enveloping him in a rib-crushing hug. “It’s good to see you safe and sound, buddy,” he said quietly, and Noctis could tell he meant it. 

“You too Prompto,” he said, with as much cheerfulness as he could muster, gently extracting himself from Prompto’s grip. 

“Glad you’re alright Noct,” said Gladio, with a smile, “didn’t spend too much time with the Imperials I hope?”

“Does it count if I was unconscious?” asked Noctis, only half jokingly.

Suddenly, he felt Prompto grasping tightly at his wrist. 

“Hey Noct, what’s this?” asked Prompto, who was now examining his left wrist intently. Noctis felt his heart skip a beat. It was the wrong hand but if Prompto went for the other one…

“What?” asked Noctis, disoriented by panic. 

“These marks...those bastards didn’t tie you up did they?” asked Prompto, now frowning deeply. 

He looked down at his wrist and, sure enough, saw light red friction burns where he’d struggled against the leather straps holding him down. He’d failed to notice them amid the panic of examining his Starscourged hand. Noctis could barely remember the last time he’d seen Prompto frown. This wasn’t good.

“What’s this about being tied up?” asked Ignis, who’d been a little behind Gladio and Prompto and was now trying to get a look at Noctis’s wrists as well. 

“Yeah, you didn’t mention  _ that _ over the phone,” said Gladio with a similar scowl. 

“I was going to tell you when you got here,” said Noctis, lying through his teeth. “It wasn’t like you could do much from over there. Besides, I’m fine now, I’ve just got bruises.” 

“What did the Imperials do to you Noctis?” asked Ignis, his voice marred with worry. “Did they question you? How did you escape?”

“Okay, one thing at a time Iggy, give him space to breathe,” said Gladio, placing a calming hand on Ignis’s shoulder. 

“They tied me up while I was unconscious,” said Noctis, trying vainly to think faster than he spoke, to come up with some story. “When I woke up it was Ardyn—you know, the Chancellor guy? He tried to ask me about how I escaped Insomnia. I wouldn’t tell him anything though, so he tried to throw me out of the airship. I guess I just warped to the ground and wound up here.”

It was mostly the truth, albeit, with some fairly important omissions. 

“He didn’t give chase?” asked Ignis, doubtfully. 

“No, we were over a forest so I think they lost sight of me,” said Noctis, hoping beyond hope that they would buy it. 

“I see,” said Ignis, with a frown. 

“Do you think they might have put a tracking device of some sort on you?” asked Gladio, looking him over, probably for evidence of the aforementioned tracking device. 

“If they have then they’re waiting for something,” said Noctis, knowing full well that with Ardyn around the Imperials didn’t really  _ need _ a tracking device. “I’ve been sitting here for a while now but I haven’t seen any sign of the Imperials.” 

“If they do show up here they’ll get what’s coming to them,” muttered Prompto darkly. He still seemed angry about the whole being-tied-up situation. 

“The important thing is that you’re safe Noctis, we can’t do much without you,” said Ignis, trying to give a reassuring smile. 

“Hopefully the same can be said for Lady Lunafreya,” said Gladio, almost absent-mindedly. 

“Have you heard anything from her?” asked Noctis, immediately seizing on the information. He needed to get to her as soon as possible.

“Sorry Noct, none of us have heard anything since we got out of the Disc,” said Gladio, a little sheepishly. 

“Right,” said Noctis, sighing slightly. 

It was foolish for him to get his hopes up so soon, after all, last time they hadn’t met until...Altissia. He felt the ground fall out from under him as he very abruptly realised that he might not have that long this time. He was dying. Actively, officially,  _ dying _ . It was strange. He didn’t  _ feel _ like he was dying. His hand was very painful, but that was it. He felt like he just had an injury. He’d had injuries before. It was almost like having time travelled again. He knew, even before it happened, that the wound would get worse, and the infection would spread until it was cured or he died from it. Like knowing you’ve been poisoned, but being unable to do anything about it. 

“Are you sure you’re alright Noct?” asked Ignis, looking sharply at him. “You’ve gone very pale.”

“No, it’s fine, I was just...thinking,” said Noctis.

“I’m sure she’s fine Noct,” said Gladio, giving him a reassuring smile. “You know Gentiana would never let anything happen to her.”

‘Unless she’s being stabbed by Ardyn,’ thought Noctis bitterly. Gentiana probably did care about Luna, just not enough to get involved with Ardyn, and it had sounded like he was going to go chasing after her fairly soon. Dammit. 

“So, where do we go from here?” asked Prompto. “Any other Astrals you need to please?”

Noctis thought carefully. Last time he’d gone to Ramuh after Titan, but Gentiana was the one who’d sent him. He didn’t know if he  _ could _ complete the trial without her. He also didn’t know if there was any way of contacting her. If she waited until the time she’d asked him last time, he could be dead by then. This was very bad. Just as he was about to ask the others to call it a day so he could plan what he was going to do, and probably spend some time crying in the bathroom, there was a loud bark from just behind him. 

“Umbra?” he asked, and sure enough, the grey and white dog was sitting patiently on the ground just behind him. “Have you got something for me, boy?”

Umbra barked in the affirmative, and looked down, pointing his nose towards the notebook tied around his neck. When was the last time he’d seen this thing? He wasn’t sure, but he  _ was _ sure he needed to see whatever was in it now. He quickly removed it from Umbra’s neck, and opened it to the most recent entry. 

‘Dear Noctis,

I hope this message finds you well, and that you were able to gain the Archaean’s blessing without injury. Gentiana tells me I must go to Angelguard to form a covenant with Ramuh, and from there we must continue to Altissia to speak with Leviathan. It saddens me that we will likely not meet again until Altissia, but Gentiana says she will guide you there herself, so hopefully our separation will not last too long. As always, my prayers are with you Noctis, and I wish you luck on your journey.

Yours, Luna.’

Noctis willed himself not to tremble. He’d been right—they wouldn’t meet until...he needed to move as quickly as possible. At least he knew Gentiana would appear soon. He needed to write something back to her though...what to say? 

‘Dear Luna, 

I’m glad you got out of the Disc alright, and I admit the same can’t exactly be said for myself. I can’t bring myself to tell you in this message, but when we next meet it is vital that we talk about something I’ve discovered. Here’s hoping our separation is not too long. May my prayers also reach you, and I hope the covenants do not cause you undue pain. 

Yours, Noctis.’

It wasn’t enough, he knew it, but he just couldn’t think of anything else to say, and he certainly couldn’t tell her about the Starscourge by letter. It would have to do. He could only hope that Luna would understand the urgency of the matter. He quickly fastened the notebook back around Umbra’s neck. Umbra gave a short whine. He seemed to know that Noctis was upset. 

“Go on boy, I need you to get that back to Luna,” he said.

Umbra gave a half-hearted bark, and began running off to Astrals knew where. Noctis sighed to himself. It was going to be a long day. 

“That dog really has a knack for finding us, doesn’t he?” said Prompto, who seemed slightly more cheery now. 

“Well, he  _ is _ an Astral Messenger,” said Noctis, standing up straight. 

“I know you don’t like us asking Noct, but did Lady Lunafreya send you any useful information?” asked Ignis, his tone cautious. 

“She says she’s heading for Angelguard, then Altissia. We won’t be seeing her again for a while.”

Noctis could feel the distinct beginnings of a throbbing headache. Probably stress-induced. His hand was still conspicuously aching. 

“Altissia?” asked Ignis, with a tone of alarm. “We’ll need some way to cross the ocean if that’s the case.”

“There’s always the Royal Port,” said Gladio. “Iris says the old boat King Regis used is still there. Doubtful it’s still working though.” 

“There’s an idea,” said Ignis, clearly formulating some plan in his mind. 

Noctis was about to interject with the fact he still needed to deal with Ramuh when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look for it and saw someone disappearing into the trees a short distance away. Someone clothed almost entirely in black. Could it be?

“Gentiana?”

He barely even glanced behind him before he went quickly after her, weaving his way through the trees, following her light scarf as it disappeared behind them, leaving her just out of sight. He needed to get to her. Eventually he reached a clearing, and, sure enough, she was standing in the centre, unmoving, looking straight at him. Actually  _ looking _ , with her eyes open. He felt a distinct unease. Something was wrong.

“The Chosen King has been...changed,” she said, her gaze seeming to look right past his face and into his very soul. “He has gained the Archaean’s favour and...something else.”

Noctis felt his stomach drop. Could she sense the corruption already? Could she be about to damn him, as her fellows had Ardyn, so long ago?

“Something else?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Even the High Messenger cannot tell what it is,” she said, now moving towards him, and he stood rooted to the spot, too afraid to try and run. 

Eventually she was standing before him, about an arm's length away, and she slowly reached out, touching his forehead with one long finger. He felt an involuntary shiver run through him. Her touch was like ice being applied directly to his forehead.

“Strange,” she said. “The Chosen King has much power.” 

She seemed to ponder this for a moment. 

“Still, the prophecy must be fulfilled,” she said, withdrawing her hand once more. “The Chosen King must go to the Fulgurian and complete the Trial set before him.”

“I...see,” said Noctis, still shaken. “Where is he?”

“My duty is to guide the Chosen King to him, though only _you_ shall hear my voice. Go forth, Prince Noctis, and know that I shall show you the way.” 

Noctis closed his eyes and shook his head, unnerved by suddenly hearing Gentiana's voice so loudly and clearly. When he opened his eyes again, she was gone. He was alone in the forest once more. Great. 

‘Follow the Messenger back to your retainers,’ said Gentiana, her voice echoing in his mind. 

Umbra came scampering out of the trees. The notebook around his neck was gone. Noctis frowned. Umbra barked, and started jumping all around him, clearly wanting him to follow. Noctis just sighed and started walking slowly after him. He looked briefly up at the sky. It would be nightfall by the time he got back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Noctis does insist on continuing to make the worst possible decisions, all while trying vainly to convince himself they're not. The whole Starscourge situation is just beginning to sink in which naturally means there's going to be a fair bit more angst in future. It was nice to have the gang reunited for a while again though, poor Noct has been suffering without them. 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and if so, let me know!


	32. The Connection

As Umbra went dashing ahead through the trees, Noctis found he finally had a moment to reflect on what had happened. On the one hand, he was relieved that Gentiana hadn’t noticed the Starscourge. On the other, he was worried about what she  _ had _ noticed. She’d said he had ‘great power’. What did that mean? Had that power concealed the Starscourge from her? Was it something to do with his time travel? 

He could still remember that first night after he’d come to terms with the fact he was alone in this new world. He’d thought back then that he might have the power of providence still within him—that he might be able to use it to kill Ardyn already. He still did, albeit, to a slightly lesser extent. Could that have been what Gentiana felt as she looked inside him? If so, he might be able to end this sooner than he thought. All he needed to do was kill Ardyn. 

He held that thought in the forefront of his mind as he wandered through the trees, ignoring the thunder brewing overhead. The wind blew cold through the branches above him, and the forest became louder as the leaves on the trees rustled frantically, while whatever beasts that lurked out of sight began to scurry for cover. Noctis continued onwards, Umbra always just ahead of him, giving the occasional bark to indicate he should hurry up. Noctis did not quicken his pace. He just walked, unseeing, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to pay Umbra much mind. 

Gradually, the sky began to grow dark as evening crept upon them, the clouds hiding any hint of sunlight in the sky above. Noctis shivered unconsciously. The air was growing cooler as the trees began to thin. He just continued to walk forward, almost as though guided by some unknown force, unwavering. He found his thoughts growing...slower, all he could think about was getting back to the others. He’d felt this fuzziness before—like that incomprehensible black fog that always lurked in the back of his memories and at the corners of his mind. He’d have been troubled by it, if he could feel anything at all. But instead there was nothing. Nothing at all.

Eventually the trees finally broke, and he and Umbra emerged into the clearing where the Chocobo post was situated. Ignis, Gladio and Prompto were standing only a few metres away, almost in the exact spot he’d left them. They hadn’t seen him yet. 

At first, he tried to call out to them, but as he did, he felt his voice suddenly die in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. The blankness was gone and in its place a deep and overwhelming grief ran through him, robbing him of speech, of most rational thought. He didn’t even know why. There was just something about seeing them standing there, unknowing of his fate, without him, that made his insides turn. It was like being a ghost and looking at them from behind a veil which he could never cross. Why? His mind was enveloped in a dark cloud of confusion and pain, and he couldn’t see through, couldn’t tell why. What was this? 

Then, Umbra barked. 

It was a loud, happy sound, and his friends all turned towards him. The moment was broken. He could breathe again. And he did breathe, deep, gasping breaths, as though he’d run back to them rather than taking a steady walk. 

“Noctis!” said Ignis, scowling deeply. “Where have you been? You scared us half to death disappearing like that.”

“Gentiana wanted to talk to me, she...guided me to her, I guess,” said Noctis, and he was surprised by how little he cared about Ignis’s anger. He just felt...numb. “Sorry for leaving you guys behind. I thought you were following me.” 

Ignis shook his head and rolled his eyes, before sighing and putting his face in his hand. Gladio seemed...unimpressed though not actually that angry, and Prompto was frowning, worry marring his face. 

‘Chosen King,’ said a voice that went echoing through Noctis’s head without warning. ‘A storm brews over Duscae. The Fulgurian’s Trial awaits you where the earth and sky meet, joined by light. Do not fear the daemons of the night.’

“She said we have to complete the Trial of Ramuh,” said Noctis, hoping his eyes hadn’t glazed over too badly. “She’ll keep us safe from the daemons until then.”

“She wants us to go now?” asked Prompto, who seemed alarmed. “But it’ll be dark soon!"

“I told you, she’ll protect us,” said Noctis, now feeling mildly annoyed. They needed to get there as soon as possible. Couldn’t they understand that? 

“Are you sure Noctis?” asked Ignis, now looking deeply concerned. “If Ramuh’s Trial is anything like Titan’s…”

“Where even is this Trial anyway?” asked Gladio, arms folded in a disapproving manner. “It could be on the other side of Lucis.” 

“The lightning will show us where it is,” said Noctis, and now his voice was trembling slightly. He felt a great compulsion to get to the lightning as soon as possible, and all this delaying was making him nervous. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. He didn’t know whether it was Gentiana’s influence or simply his own panic about wanting to get to Luna as soon as possible, but he could feel himself shaking with stress. “We need to get over there, this is...important.” 

To his distress, Ignis shook his head. 

“Noct you’re white as a sheet,” he said, now taking on a calming tone. “Surely we can do this in the morning. You need to rest. You’ve been through a lot these last few days.” 

Days? That didn’t seem right. Gladio sighed as he looked at him. 

“You haven’t even realised, have you?” he said, sounding more tired than Noctis had heard him in a while. “It’s been three days since we fought Titan, and you clearly need sleep. You’re in no condition to do anything for Ramuh at the moment.”

Noctis looked pleadingly at Prompto. Surely at least  _ he _ would understand how important this was. 

“Sorry bud,” said Prompto, refusing to meet his gaze. Noctis felt his heart sink. “I mean, they  _ tied you up _ and everything. How can you want to keep going after Ramuh after that? You need some time to just...sort this out. Then we’ll go to him. I promise.” 

“We can’t wait!” said Noctis, already internally reprimanding himself for how hysterical he sounded. But they just didn’t understand how important this was. “Listen, I know, I need rest, but we need to do this now. I can sleep in the car, but we need to go. She wants us to go…”

With these words a realisation hit him with approximately the force of a train. He could feel  _ her _ emotions. Gentiana wanted him to get to Ramuh as soon as possible, she was making him feel like she did. But he was desperate too. Something about the connection that let him hear her was going wrong. This shouldn’t be happening.  

‘The Chosen King has great power,’ said Gentiana, her voice returning. ‘The connection is too strong. The Trial cannot be undertaken in this manner. Patience, Prince Noctis. The Astrals would not see you fall. Rest now.’ 

“Noctis?” asked someone, and he felt something sever itself from him, leaving a great exhaustion to come crashing down onto his shoulders.

He felt arms grasping him under the shoulders, keeping him upright. He felt extraordinarily tired. 

“She’s gone. Says to rest,” he managed, blearily. He was just about able to keep his eyes open. 

“Well at least she sees sense then,” grumbled Ignis, who’d begun pacing back and forth in agitation. “Perhaps we could stay in that caravan while you recover…”

“30 Gil,” mumbled Noctis, remembering the many times they’d slept in a caravan over the course of their travels. “Owner said earlier.”

“Right, Prompto, go and pay the owner, we’ll get Noctis inside,” said Ignis. Noctis guessed Gladio was the one that had caught him. 

“I can walk,” muttered Noctis, attempting to find his feet and just about pulling himself upwards. 

“Whatever you say, Your Highness,” sighed Gladio, “I’m still helping you over there.” 

Noctis managed to stagger over to the caravan with Gladio’s help, before collapsing onto one of the beds, exhaustion overtaking him. For a while he just lay there, not moving, his eyes closed, not awake but not asleep either. The world behind his eyelids didn’t seem to matter. He could only hear snippets of conversation, most of which he forgot again instantly. His body felt impossibly heavy. Had he been this tired before? It probably didn’t matter. 

When he came back to consciousness again, though he suspected he hadn’t actually been asleep in the first place, it was still dark outside. Perfect. Now he’d ruined his sleep schedule. Again. He pondered on this for a minute. He’d been spending so little time with his friends, even after he realised they weren’t deliberately antagonising him. He’d been keeping odd sleeping hours, and constantly going off alone due to what he could only describe as trauma symptoms. It didn’t help that they kept blindsiding him out of nowhere. He could still feel a dull ache stemming from his hand. Perhaps he ought to take a look at it? At the very least he needed to change the makeshift bandage for an actual one. 

He sluggishly rolled out of bed, and, as quietly as he could, snuck into the bathroom, taking care not to let the door slam, then locking it behind him. He didn’t particularly want to turn on the light—that may well wake the others, so instead he fished his phone out of his pocket and allowed its bright screen to dimly illuminate the bathroom. The first aid kit was stored behind the mirror over the sink. He carefully removed it from its shelf and looked inside. 

To his relief, there was a roll of bandage inside, and he quickly went to work unravelling a piece. Then came the difficult part. Despite the fact he’d had the injury for at least twenty-four hours now, Noctis still couldn’t quite bring himself to deal with it. The image of Ardyn and the ichor dripping off his knife as he sliced across Noctis’s hand still made him want to vomit. And that of the infection spreading under his skin, turning his veins a decaying black, of seeing the black ooze exuding from the injury—he was shaking again. He should really just get it over with. Tentatively, he removed his glove to show the strip of his cloak he’d used to bandage the injury. Then he cautiously untied it, his hands shaking badly with nerves. 

Then the bandage was gone, and his palm was facing away from him. He really didn’t want to look at the cut again, but he knew he needed to check on it, for better or for worse. He turned his hand over. 

Most of the black ooze had gone from the wound, probably soaked up by the cloak. He’d probably need to burn it. The wound hadn’t healed at all though, and even as he noticed this, more ichor was beginning to form in the cut. Another bandage was definitely needed. He quickly got to work wrapping the wound in the new bandage, then quickly replacing the glove. At least that was out of the way. Now there was just the cloak to dispose of. 

He couldn’t just toss it into the bin and hope for the best—the damned thing could probably spread the infection, and that was the last thing he wanted. He needed some way of permanently disposing of it. The easiest thing to do would be to light it on fire, but if he left out of the caravan door there was no way one of them wouldn’t wake up. It was roughly at this point he turned his gaze upwards, and noticed a small window, just next to the shower. Perfect. 

In what might have been the most domestically risky thing he’d done since leaving Insomnia for the first time, he dangled the contaminated piece of cloth out of the window. He then channelled magic through the fingers of his left hand (there was no way he’d risk casting with his right) and allowed the flame to catch the material. It seemed like the Starscourge wasn’t a particularly flammable substance, because it took a while for the cloth to catch ablaze, but when it did Noctis quickly let it fall to the floor for nature to take its course. 

A small weight off his mind, Noctis re-entered the main body of the caravan, only to be nearly scared out of his skin by Ignis sitting on the side of the bed, looking down at the floor. He looked over at Noctis when he re-entered the room, probably alerted by the yelp Noctis had given upon noticing him. It was hard to see in the dark, but Noctis thought he saw Ignis give a smile. 

“Sorry for alarming you Noct,” he said, quietly. “Can’t sleep, I take it?”

“Might be for the best,” said Noctis, without really thinking. 

“Indeed,” said Ignis, now growing serious. “Your nightmares still continue then?” 

“Every night,” said Noctis, feeling that, between everything else he was hiding, he at least owed Ignis the truth about that.

“I see,” said Ignis, now probably frowning. “I’ll admit that I find this worrying. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that sleep is important to your health, and...I’m concerned about the effect this is having on you, Noct. You’ve been...withdrawn, lately. Is there anything I, or any of us, can do to help you?” 

“I’m sorry Ignis,” said Noctis. “You can’t really save me from my dreams, can you?” 

“No,” said Ignis, and now there was a melancholy tone to his voice. “It’s just...are you sure you’re alright? The Imperials truly didn’t harm you while you were in their care?”

“Only if you consider being kidnapped to be ‘harm’,” said Noctis, with a very forced smile which probably wasn’t visible in the dark anyway. “I  _ did _ panic when Ardyn threw me out of the carrier, but it didn’t actually hurt me.” 

“Of course,” said Ignis, with a sigh. “I suppose I should let you rest until morning. Good night, Noct.”

“Good night, Ignis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! This one was...interesting to write. There's a lot of stuff going down in it, so I was debating splitting it up, but I eventually settled on keeping it all together like this. Noctis is kind of edging into the beginnings of a breakdown, but he's got things mostly under control for the moment. He's still reeling from the whole Ardyn incident though, so time will only tell how well that ends up going for him. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed this new chapter, and if so, let me know!


	33. The Trial of Ramuh

Noctis returned blearily to consciousness at what must have been mid-morning, because the room he woke up to was extremely bright. Too bright. He feebly attempted to cover his eyes from the glaring light shining in through the windows, but that just made his head ache. He fumbled for his bag by the foot of his bed. Thankfully someone had moved it there while he was resting. After blindly feeling around in the bag for about a minute, he found what he was looking for—a pair of sunglasses. Grimacing, he put them on. 

Instantly, the room became much more bearable, he was now able to actually see what was going on. By the looks of things, his friends were already up and about, because their beds were empty. He sighed as he remembered what happened the day before. They still needed to find Ramuh. He glanced up at one of the windows in the caravan. For all of the unbearable brightness, it was still cloudy outside—raining, actually. How had he not noticed before? He could hear the raindrops pattering on the top of the caravan. The others had to be outside. Although why they’d  _ want _ to be out there was beyond him.

He rose from his seat, pulled on a coat, and opened the door to look outside. 

Ignis, Gladio and Prompto were sitting in the plastic chairs just outside the caravan, under the shelter of the canopy which protruded from the caravan’s roof. The wind was blowing the rain away from them, so they remained comfortably dry. Lucky. 

“Ah, Noctis, finally woken up I see,” said Ignis, glancing up at where he stood in the door. 

“‘Sup sleepyhead,” said Prompto, grinning. Noctis rolled his eyes, before realising they probably wouldn’t see that behind his sunglasses. 

“What are you guys doing?” he asked, emerging from the caravan and moving over to where they were sitting. 

“Planning for this meeting with Ramuh,” said Gladio, pointing to the map laid out on the table in front of them. “You said the lightning would show us the way, right? Well it’s been striking the same spot for the last hour or so: right here,” he said indicating Fociaugh Hollow on the map. 

Only the last runestone...perhaps Gentiana thought he was too weak to get the others after what happened the day before. Or perhaps too strong. 

“I see,” he said, frowning slightly. “When do we go?” 

“Whenever you feel ready, Noctis,” said Ignis, looking at him with a pointed gaze. 

“Let’s just get it over with, right?” he said, and he sounded tired. 

“Alright, if that’s what you think is best,” said Gladio, rising from his seat. “Let’s get everything packed up, then we can go.” 

It didn’t take long until they were all sitting in the car, ready to get going. Noctis leaned back in his seat, letting his mind wander. At least while he was in the car he wouldn’t have to think too deeply about what was going on. He could just...relax, for a while. The idea felt strange to him. How long had it been since he’d been able to just sit and do nothing, and be content with that idea? Decades, probably. He frowned for a moment. He probably shouldn’t dwell on it. 

It seemed to him to be mere moments before they were suddenly  _ at _ Fociaugh Hollow, the time simply passing him by. Now the real challenge would begin. 

“Are you ready Noct?” asked Ignis, as they emerged from the car.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, sighing. “Let’s go.”

The group was quiet as they approached the opening to the dungeon, whether it was because they wanted to give him more time to decompress or they simply didn’t have anything to say, Noctis had no idea, but he was grateful for the silence. 

The great stone entrance had been split in two by a bolt of lightning, just like last time. Noctis took a deep breath to steady himself, then entered the cavern. His hand automatically went to his torch, as did his friends, and the room was lit by a pale blue glow. 

“Careful,” he said, without thinking, “the rocks look slippery.”

“On top of it, Noct!” said Prompto, grinning and jogging ahead of him slightly. 

A memory suddenly flashed to the forefront of Noctis’s mind: darkness, Prompto screaming as something dragged him away. That had been here, hadn’t it? 

“Prompto, stay close to me,” he said, worry colouring his voice. “I don’t want to lose sight of you.”

Prompto raised his eyebrows slightly, but came back over to Noctis’s side.

“Your wish is my command, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing sarcastically. Noctis smiled. A sarcastic Prompto was a normal Prompto. Hopefully it would stay that way. 

The rest of the trip through the cavern was mostly uneventful—there were plenty of imps, but everyone was experienced enough now that they didn’t pose too much of an issue. Uneventful, that was, until they got to the tunnels. At every turn there was a gaping hole leading straight into darkness, and Noctis could hear something stirring within. The Naga. He remembered it now, the huge serpentine monster—the first daemon they’d met that showed undeniable signs of sentience. Really he ought to have guessed right then what the true origins of the daemons were. But he hadn’t. And now the same fate might await him as well. It was a chilling thought, and he did his best to ignore it as he continued through the tunnels. 

There was a movement in the corner of his vision. He whipped around, sword at the ready, prepared to skewer the thing where it stood. Almost as quickly as he caught sight of it, it was gone again. It  _ had _ been there though. He knew it had. 

“What’s wrong Noct?” asked Gladio from behind him. “You see something?” 

“There’s something there,” he said, frowning. “It’s been watching us.”

“A daemon?” asked Ignis.

“Yeah, something like that…” muttered Noctis, “Everyone stay close, alright? I don’t want it to try and pick any of us off.”

“You think a daemon would do that? I mean, they’re just animals aren’t they?” asked Prompto, nervously. 

“Even animals have enough intelligence to know trying to pick us off one at a time would be easier than taking us all on at once,” said Gladio, frowning. 

“And daemons have more intelligence than most animals,” said Ignis, now glancing down the tunnels, just like Noctis was. 

“Right,” said Prompto, also on the alert. 

They were all on their guard now. That was good, it would mean the Naga would be less likely to take them by surprise. They moved carefully through the rest of the tunnels, eventually emerging into a large cavern. It would be waiting for them there. Noctis got his daggers out in preparation. Gladio quickly spotted what he was doing, and motioned for the others to follow suit. 

Noctis walked slowly into the centre of the cavern, turning around, trying to look everywhere at once as he moved out into the open. He heard a hissing sound from behind him. The Naga. He immediately whipped around to see the creature sliding across the floor towards him, raising it’s disproportionately large head to stare at him in a disconcerting manner. 

“Hello,” said Noctis, remembering how the creature had tried to speak to them before. It tilted it’s head as he addressed it. “We aren’t here to hurt you, and we don’t have your baby. Will you let us pass through?” 

“What are you doing?” hissed Gladio in his ear. 

“It was whispering about its baby earlier, I could hear it,” mumbled Noctis, hoping the Naga couldn’t hear him. 

“No baby?” asked the Naga, it’s voice like nails on a chalkboard. 

“No baby, we’re just passing through—can you let us do that?” asked Noctis, though he could already sense what it’s answer would be. 

“If you do not have my baby, you must  _ become _ my baby!” hissed the Naga, incensed. 

“Okay, I’m taking that as a no, Noct,” said Prompto, before yelping and jumping out of the way as the Naga lunged at him. 

Noctis wasted no time dodging out of the way of the creature’s tail and cutting a long slice through its thick scales as it passed. Ignis saw what Noctis was trying to do and quickly followed suit, attacking its long tail with a flurry of blows from his daggers. 

The Naga screamed as the daggers cut through flesh, and turned back towards them, trying to flatten them with its tail. Gladio saw the opportunity he needed, and went running up towards the Naga, greatsword at the ready, and with a sickening  _ crunch, _ brought it down on the Naga’s neck. It collapsed to the ground, bleeding badly from the wound, but there was still some flicker of life in its face as it tried utter a few last words. 

Noctis realised at precisely the last minute that these words would be magic, but before he could even move towards it, there was a loud  _ bang _ . Blood began to leak from a hole in its forehead. Prompto had shot it. It was dead. 

Noctis gave a quiet sigh of relief. No one had gotten hurt that time. They were getting better at this. He couldn’t help but smile to himself. 

“Do we keep going?” asked Ignis, making his way back over to Noctis. 

“Yeah, the main chamber should be just through here, right?” asked Noctis, looking over at Gladio. 

“That’s where the lightning was striking,” said Gladio, nodding. 

Noctis made his way over to the end of the cavern. He emerged into a small, green chamber, light shining down from an opening in the rocks above. Plants had grown up around the runestone he needed to obtain power from. Which, now that he looked at it, seemed different than it had before. Before it had looked like a normal rock, right up until he walked up close to it. This time it seemed to be almost crackling with bright, violet energy. 

Noctis walked cautiously up to it, worried about what might happen once he got close. As he approached, he felt like he could almost  _ feel _ the energy crackling through the rock, pulling at him, urging him to draw closer. He extended his hand towards it, just like he had last time. He saw the lightning lance out from the rock, toward his fingers... 

...and then he was somewhere else entirely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agh, sorry there's not much this week! This chapter is mostly Noct trying to ignore what's going on and continue as he usually does, pretending everything's fine when it definitely isn't. Thankfully for him, the gang's a bit better prepared for a dungeon this time, having gotten in some practice with the MTs in the meantime. The Naga was eerie to write though, even if it doesn't pose too much of a threat. The story behind it is deeply unsettling. 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and if so, let me know!


	34. A Vision of the Future?

He was running, and for a moment he wasn’t completely sure why. Then a pillar came crashing down just behind him. Leviathan was looming over them, blotting out the sky with her massive serpentine form and hurling pieces of the wrecked city of Altissia at them. He ran at full sprint to the nearest piece of cover—a large piece of debris that had probably once been a shop, where Luna was hiding, waving him over. He managed to duck under it just as a large chunk of pavement went hurtling by him. 

“Are you alright Noctis?” asked Luna, looking at him with concern in her eyes. “You haven’t had long to recover.”

“I’m fine. It’s always been fine before,” said Noctis, panting slightly. 

“Liar,” said Luna, with a tired sigh. “Though I suppose we have other concerns at the moment.” 

Noctis could hear Leviathan roaring in anger at not being able to find them. 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you have a plan?” she asked, looking around for something she might use as a weapon. “Is there a standard way of doing this?”

Noctis laughed. 

“No, sorry. Just take whatever opportunity you can get to strike her,” he said, then frowned as he noticed Luna was hunched over slightly. “Are you alright though? I know the covenants are hard on you.”

“I’ll be fine, Noctis. I just...I will need to rest once this is over,” she said, a deep tiredness in her eyes. 

“You and me both,” said Noctis, bemused. “But for now we just need to bring her down as quickly as possible, and remember, if Ardyn shows up,  _ run _ .” 

“I will, Noctis,” said Luna, looking up, watching for Leviathan in the sky above. 

“I’m going to run and draw her attention,” said Noctis, already getting his spear ready. “You try and hit her with the Trident while she’s distracted.” 

Luna nodded, and, with a brief moment of hesitation, Noctis began to run out from behind the cover. Almost immediately, Leviathan caught sight of him. 

She roared with fury, then dove at him and Noctis quickly rolled out of the way. He needed to use his Armiger. He was hesitant to, what with everything that had happened, even though he knew it would work just fine. Taking a deep breath as he continued sprinting along the roofs of the houses, he activated the Armiger. Almost immediately, he felt like he was flying rather than running, the power almost lifting him off the ground. He frowned slightly as he noticed this. There’d been more and more of it recently. That might be a problem eventually. But not now, as he continued to soar over the rooftops, Leviathan lunging and splashing after him. 

He saw his weapons swirling around him, almost as though eager to be used. Well, he’d be happy to give them what they wanted. Spinning out of the way of Leviathan, he stopped and brought his weapons to the ready. They felt light in his hands. He sent a spear flying towards Leviathan, hitting her square in the stomach. She screamed and lunged at him and he was barely able to move out of the way in time. The wind was biting at his face. It was almost...exhilarating. 

He glanced back down towards the ground while Leviathan was distracted, and saw Luna running along the rooftops below him. Wait, that wasn’t right...he needed to stop her, or Leviathan would—

An immense sound echoed behind him, a terrible screeching, tearing sound. He knew that sound. He turned to look at what had caused it, a deep, unspeakable dread in his throat, but as he did, the world seemed to go out of focus again. 

* * *

He awoke to the sound of someone yelling quite close to him.

“Noctis? Noctis!” said the voice, and Noctis slowly became aware that someone was shaking him. 

His vision began to slowly come back to him, and as it did, he could just about make out the face staring down at him. Ignis. Oh shit. 

“Noctis? Can you hear me?” he asked. Thankfully the shaking had stopped. 

Noctis tried to answer in the affirmative but all that came out was a mumble. He still wasn’t quite awake. His head hurt. Perhaps he’d hit it when he...passed out. The Astrals had it out for him, there was no other explanation. But what had just happened to him? A vision of the future? Something had happened with Leviathan—Luna had been alive! He really could save her, it was possible! But there was something else, towards the end. Some kind of darkness. He couldn’t quite remember what it was. 

“Oh, thank goodness you’re alright,” sighed Ignis, who sounded quite upset. Probably for good reason if what Noctis suspected had happened had actually happened. 

“Alright might be pushing it, Iggy,” said Gladio, from somewhere above him. 

“Something happened,” said Noctis, his speech still a touch slurred. “I saw something.” 

“What did you see, Noctis?” asked Ignis, his attention once more fully focused on Noctis. 

“Leviathan, Luna, something bad…” was all he could coherently manage. 

“You had a vision with Leviathan in it?” asked Ignis, who seemed confused. 

“Something bad? Do remember what it was Noct?” asked Gladio, now crouching down beside him. 

“No,” said Noctis, frowning. “It was towards the end. I couldn’t see it but I knew it was there...something behind me.” 

“I see,” said Ignis pushing his glasses up his nose. “Unfortunately that doesn’t give us much to go off, but it must be significant, this vision of yours.” 

“So, did Ramuh cause it then?” asked Prompto, who was kneeling by Noctis’s side, like Ignis. 

“I don’t know,” said Noctis, trying to remember what happened last time. “Perhaps it was the magic?” 

“Perhaps,” said Ignis, though he sounded doubtful. 

“Are you alright though Noct?” asked Prompto, still sounding worried. “I mean, it looked as though lightning went straight through you!”

“I think I’m fine—well, my head hurts a bit, but otherwise nothing,” he said. It was technically true. Nothing hurt that hadn’t been hurting before at any rate. 

“You did hit your head when you fell,” said Gladio, frowning. “Didn’t expect you to just collapse like that.” 

“Right, of course,” said Noctis, retroactively wincing. 

“So you’re like, clairvoyant now or something?” asked Prompto, who now sounded almost excited about this development. 

“No,” said Noctis bluntly, then realised that might not be quite true, and continued, “I don’t know, maybe?” 

“That’s so cool!” 

“Hmph.” 

“Do you know what we need to do next Noct?” asked Ignis. 

“We need to go after Leviathan, if that vision meant anything then I think that’s it,” said Noctis, starting to get up. He might not have to worry about the Starscourge at all if that he could get to Luna quickly enough. 

“So we need to go to Cape Caem, to get the royal boat,” said Ignis, with a sigh. 

“The boat’s pretty run down, according to Iris,” said Gladio, frowning. “We may have to wait a while to get it up and running.” 

Damn it. 

“We could try and convince Cid to fix it,” muttered Noctis, trying to conceal his panic at the idea. 

“It would still take time for him to get here and get to work,” said Ignis, frowning. 

And he also needed mythril ore to get it running. Something that had conveniently  _ not _ travelled with him to the future. They’d need to go to Styliff to get that, where, unless he was greatly mistaken, the Imperials, and potentially  _ Ardyn _ would be waiting for him. Damn it. This was worse than he thought. 

“Let’s call him now, just get it over with,” said Noctis, already pulling out his battered phone. It took a few seconds for Cid to pick up. “Hey, Cid.”

“Oh! You’re still alive then,” said Cid, who sounded genuinely surprised from the other end of the line. “Wouldn’t have killed you to call sooner would it?”

“Haha yeah,” said Noctis, trying not to sound too hysterical, even if his mood was dropping quicker than a lead balloon. “Listen, Cid? I might need a favour.”

“ _ Might? _ ” asked Cid. “Do you or don’t you boy? Spit it out!”

“Okay, we  _ do _ need a favour,” grumbled Noctis. “You remember Dad’s old ship? We need to get it working again.”

“Oh, that old thing?” said Cid, apparently bemused. “Yeah, I can fix that up for you. For a price, of course.”

“Of course,” muttered Noctis. “It’s still over at Cape Caem, so if you could get over there as soon as possible…”

“Don’t rush me, boy! I’ll be over there in a jiffy. Just let me get my things together.” 

“Okay Cid,” said Noctis, feeling a touch of tension leave his chest. “See you later.”

“Humph,” said Cid, then hung up. 

“Well, the good news is Cid’s heading over to Caem,” said Noctis, turning to face the rest of the group. 

“Did he say how fast he could get there, Noct?” asked Ignis. 

“In a jiffy.”

“Fabulous,” muttered Ignis. 

“I guess we know where we’re going next then, right Noct?” asked Prompto, who seemed to be itching to get back to the car. 

“To Cape Caem?” asked Noctis.

“To Cape Caem,” said Gladio, with a grin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a few things happen in this chapter, so I decided to keep it short rather than running on into the next scene. Well, at least that's Ramuh's trial mostly over with, even if it might have...unforeseen consequences for Noct. Let's hope the Starscourge won't drag him down before he can get to Styliff, huh? 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter, and feel free to let me know if you did!


	35. Towards Cape Caem

The journey back through the tunnels and caverns of Fociaugh was more of a trek than it had seemed going forwards through them. Unusual, considering the way back was normally quicker than the way forward. But something inside him seemed a little...off somehow. He hadn’t noticed it until after the vision, but Noctis suspected the lightning had had a greater effect on him than he’d realised. Perhaps it was the fact he may have been...you know... _ electrocuted _ , but it didn’t feel quite the same as that. He wasn’t...in pain exactly. He just felt...odd. Like his body was too heavy and too light at the same time—as though he was wearing it rather than a part of it. 

That had been a mild bonus of whatever Ramuh’s powers had done to him—the Starscourge felt a little less terrifying, and his hand was no longer aching in quite the awful, pervasive way it had before. Obviously he didn’t dare check it while the others were around, but he would as soon as he could get a moment to himself. That could take a while though. A long while. He tried to put the thought out of his mind. The important thing was to get to Luna. That was all that mattered now. He was half inclined to suggest to the others they go to Styliff straight away, to try and get past the Imperials as quickly as possible, but he knew that would probably only cause more trouble. So instead he remained quiet, and enjoyed the silence as best he could until they left the cave. 

It wasn’t too long until Noctis could see the literal and metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel. Though he wasn’t as happy to see it as he anticipated. It wasn’t raining anymore, and the sun had emerged, shining brightly over Duscae. He remembered how he felt last time. Such a sense of relief, of achievement, when he finally left the cave and saw light had returned to the world once more. Perhaps that was a metaphor for what was to come. But this time...this time he had no such feelings of happiness. The sun burned his eyes in a way he’d never quite felt before and he quickly grasped at his sunglasses, pulling them back down over his eyes in a flash. That pain...that  _ burning _ ...it couldn’t be anything good. 

He frowned as he emerged from the cave fully, even as the others seemed to be having quite the opposite reaction.

“Thank the Gods!” said Prompto, throwing his hands up in the air once they were outside. “Sun, I have missed you.”

“It is nice to have good weather again,” said Ignis smiling. 

“You’ll be hating it soon, just you see,” said Gladio with a knowing smirk. Prompto’s whining in Leide had clearly grated on his nerves. 

“Where did we leave the car again?” asked Noctis, who had an uneasy feeling somewhere deep in his chest. 

He knew it was improbable that the Imperials had stolen it while they were inside Fociaugh—they’d certainly never tried it before, but something inside him was telling him  _ this is wrong _ with the force of a large boulder. Perhaps this was the downside to changing the future—you started to lose where you were. Hopefully he’d get used to it soon enough. There’d be trouble if he didn’t. 

“Just down the path, Noct,” said Ignis, immediately cottoning on to the worry in Noctis’s voice. “You do remember don’t you?”

“Yeah, I just...I’m worried about the Imperials, you know?” he said, hoping to be able to pass it off. 

“I understand, Noct,” said Ignis, pushing his glasses up his nose in a way that screamed ‘we’ll talk about this later.’ 

Great, just what he  _ didn’t _ need right now. At least he didn’t have to worry about mentioning Altissia and Leviathan anymore. That was one small blessing from the Astrals. Not that they were going to be much help in the future. The future...it was a strange thought. Especially since he didn’t really have one. He didn’t know what he planned to do after Leviathan. There was no way in hell he was going back to Gralea—at this point that would be an exercise in ‘how to doom the world’. No, he needed a better plan. Much better. 

And what about Gralea anyway? He hadn’t really considered what must be happening in Niflheim during all this. How long until every last citizen was made into a monster? Had the outbreak already happened, or was Gralea still going on as a normal city, with normal people living there? How long until so many more deaths were added to the toll? 

The days were starting to get shorter now. He’d noticed it last night—it was a tiny difference, so small no one else who’d been living it would have noticed, but  _ he _ did. And it frightened him. It was...what, a few weeks since they’d left Insomnia? It was happening faster this time...something had changed, and he didn’t know what and he didn’t know why, but the sands of time were slipping away from him again. They needed to get a move on. 

The car gradually came back into view. 

“Would you like to drive, Noct? Or shall I?” asked Ignis, turning back towards him. That was something different too—despite all that had happened, Ignis trusted him to drive the car, and not get them lost in the process. 

He was about to say yes—driving was good stress relief, and an excuse not to talk much, but caught himself. While it was easy to forget with the pain having dimmed for a time, he  _ did _ still have a nasty gaping wound on the inside of his hand, and driving would not help it to seal up. It might be best to sit it out for a time. 

“You can drive this time, Specs,” he said, moving towards his seat in the back. 

“Well I’m honoured,” said Ignis, raising his eyebrows, but moving towards the driver’s seat nonetheless. 

The moment the car started moving, Noctis felt his mind drifting again, and not in a pleasant way. Something about the movement of the car, the way he couldn’t focus on anything around him seemed to set his mind spinning away from him, and he was unable to hold on to one thought for more than a few seconds. Was this what being car-sick felt like? If so then it was both new to him and absolutely horrible. 

He was drawn out of his haze, however, when a voice spoke up from in front of him. 

“So...you looking forward to seeing Iris again, Gladio?” asked Prompto, from the front seat. Good. Something he could focus on. 

“She’s my sister,” said Gladio, shrugging. “‘Course I am.” 

“Hey, c’mon, you’ve got to give us more than that!” said Prompto. “What’s it like over at Cape Caem? Is there a house there or something?” 

“A safe house, meant for the royal family,” said Ignis, from the front seat. 

“Yeah, apparently they’ve got a farm there too. Saves going out and buying vegetables, I suppose,” said Gladio. 

Noctis couldn’t quite conceal his look of disgust. Even if he managed to somehow live to a hundred, he’d never understand people who like vegetables. 

“Not that that’d be any use to the  _ actual _ royal family, huh Noct?” said Gladio, apparently catching him wrinkling his nose. 

“I’m just saying, they’re gross, and I don’t understand how people can eat them and not want to vomit,” said Noctis, raising his arms in a gesture of ‘I surrender’. 

“I guess Noct here would be stuck trying to sneak into the local convenience store then,” said Prompto, laughing. 

Noctis tried to smack Prompto upside the head, but Prompto swiftly dodged out of the way. His reflexes were getting faster. Good. That meant he was getting better at fighting. Or Noctis was just getting slower. One or the other. 

“Hey Ignis,” said Prompto, after checking Noctis wasn’t going to swipe at him again, “how long’s it going to take to get there?” 

“A day’s drive at least,” said Ignis, sighing. “I suggest you settle in.” 

“What? But that’s  _ ages _ away!”

Noctis just rolled his eyes, leant back in his seat, and closed his eyes tightly. Nothing else to do but wait, and this might be an opportunity to catch up on some sleep, since most of what he’d been counting as ‘sleep’ recently was due to passing out. It didn’t take long for his body to feel exceptionally heavy, and his thoughts to begin floating away. 

* * *

A city was standing before him. He found himself looking on, impassive, as flames licked at the sides of the buildings and smoke rose in huge plumes up into the night sky. The street lamps above him were shattered, but the light of the many, many fires illuminated the city well enough. Noctis felt himself horrified and uncaring all at once. The more awake, more conscious part of his brain was looking at the carnage of the city, which he now realised was Lestallum, and feeling a deep, intense panic. Somewhere in the back of his mind though; just a dim feeling in his subconscious, he felt...nothing. He didn’t care about this, about what was happening to the city.  

His conscious mind fought against this feeling, but no matter how much he thought about it; how the heat of the flames seemed to burn at his skin; how the smoke seemed to almost suffocate him; he just couldn’t dislodge the idea. It was like he was missing something somehow. Some part of this scenario was...off and he couldn’t tell what it was. All he could do was stand stock-still, watching as the inferno consumed the city from the inside out. 

What had caused this?

The smoke seemed to be settling on his lungs. He gave a horrible, hacking cough. He needed to get out of here—both parts of his mind seemed to agree on that. He staggered away from the blaze, even as the flames began to spread to the side of the road he was standing on, burning the tarmac on the road. He collapsed into a coughing fit as he leant on the wall that looked out over the rest of Duscae. 

He almost choked as he saw what lay below.

Out on the plains and fields of Duscae, like a swarm of insects so far below, seemed to be the Niflheim military, lined up in rows upon rows of soldiers. Noctis quickly turned back to the blazing husk of Lestallum, that feeling in the back of his mind now exploding as he realised what had happened. Lestallum had been put to torch by Niflheim. Just like Tenebrae had the first time. And he’d...known about it? 

The moment he thought this, his mind seized up in  _ agony _ . Then he saw something—he saw a thick, black, inky...substance come pouring in from between the buildings of Lestallum. It was light, like some sort of gas, but not like the smoke pouring from the buildings. No, it was something else entirely. It was like fog, thick, black fog, just like—

But before he could remember what it reminded him of, it came pouring faster and faster—towards him, and all at once he was entrenched in it. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. His mind came to a horrible stuttering halt as every last part of his energy was expended on trying to keep breathing. But he couldn’t. He was drowning. He was dying. 

Then he was gone. 

* * *

He sprung back to consciousness with a deep and unshakable panic, immediately sitting upright and looking around frantically at what was going on. What was going on, as it happened, was what seemed to be some sort of medical intervention. He was sitting on wet grass, and as he looked around he saw he wasn’t far from the road, where he could see the Regalia parked a short distance away. He’d been carried away from it, probably by the three worried faces looking down at him. Ignis was sitting next to him, and he’d almost headbutted him as he sprang awake. Prompto was kneeling just to his right, with a combination of worry and sadness on his face. Gladio was just behind Ignis and had his phone out, apparently about to call someone.

Ignis quickly grabbed him by the shoulders, which made Noctis uncomfortably aware that his clothes were slick with sweat and sticking to him again, which meant he’d probably been showing signs of his nightmare while he was asleep.

“Noctis, look at me,” he said, in a tone that dared him to disobey, so Noctis did as he was told. “You’re safe. We’re here with you, do you understand me?”

Noctis tried to say yes, but found his throat was impossibly sore, and instead decided to nod. He must look more out of it than he thought. Then a terrible thought occurred to him, and he attempted to look as subtly as he could at his right hand. The glove was still in place, so it couldn’t have been that particular issue. What was this? 

“What...happened?” he managed to mumble, though his throat burned as he did. Was he coming down with some sort of cold?

Prompto laughed at this question, though he sounded almost hysterical rather than genuinely amused. Gladio frowned at him, though he wasn’t paying attention. 

“Good question, Noct!” he said, still laughing, and to Noctis’s alarm he noticed Prompto was actually crying slightly. 

“You had...some sort of seizure,” said Ignis, who had not let go of his arms and was looking at him with deep concern. 

“You started choking on the air or something,” said Gladio, who had a similar expression on his face. “We thought you were dying.”

“That tracks,” said Noctis, sighing deeply. “There was something like that in my nightmare.”

He saw no point in keeping that particular detail from them. He would never tell them  _ all _ the details, of course, but there was no harm in telling them that. 

“That  _ tracks _ ?” asked Prompto, looking a touch horrified. Okay, maybe there was  _ some _ harm. “You could have  _ died _ and that’s all you have to say about it?” 

“It is worrying, Noctis,” said Ignis, slowly removing his hands now he was sure Noctis wasn’t going to collapse again. “Even if you are having particularly bad nightmares, they shouldn’t be having this effect on you.”

“I know, I know,” said Noctis, deciding it might be best to end this line of questioning until he could think straight. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any answers for you. I just had a shitty nightmare and woke up to...this.” 

Ignis sighed deeply. 

“Alright, Noct,” he said, helping Noctis to his feet. “You just gave us a scare. It would be nice to know what caused this though, if only so we can stop it happening again.” 

Noctis just nodded as he tried to stay on his feet. Ignis noticed his difficulty and put his arm under Noctis’s shoulders and helped him back towards the car. 

“Try to take it easy there, Noct,” said Gladio, frowning as they went back towards the car. “Don’t want you collapsing again.” 

Noctis just put his thumbs up as he sat back down in the car. 

“Note to self—sleeping in car is bad,” he muttered, pinching his forehead. 

“I’ll keep you awake, Noct,” said Prompto, smiling wickedly as he jumped back into his seat. 

“We’re only ten minutes away, Noct,” said Ignis, glancing back at him. 

“It’s okay, Ignis,” said Noctis, sighing. “I don’t think I’m going to get much sleep after that anyway.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter to write! It's about time the boys got some downtime, even if it doesn't necessarily work out great for Noct. The timeline for Niflheim's destruction does seem very vague in the game, if only because there seems to be no news coming out of there that isn't to do with their troops, which aren't exactly affected by the Starscourge. It's kinda sad when you think about it—there were definitely innocent people living in Gralea after all. Hopefully Aranea's DLC will clear some of that up!
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter, and if so, please let me know!


	36. A Moment to Relax

Luckily, Ignis had been right. It wasn’t long before Cape Caem came slowly into view, the huge lighthouse towering over everything else in the vicinity. Noctis could still feel a deep tension in his chest. He was still on edge about his nightmare; not what happened in it, but the effect it had had on him. He’d been drowning in his dream and, somehow, that had carried over to his unconscious body—he’d begun choking; if what Gladio had said was true, that was. Considering what usually happened to him in his dreams, soon that could have very dire consequences.

Even putting aside the fact he might give himself some sort of seizure in real life, if, by chance, he had a nightmare about what was happening to his hand (and that was bound to happen sooner or later) then they could end up removing his glove, and that would be...incredibly bad. For a number of reasons. Still, they were almost there, and he’d need to put on a slightly more cheery face for Iris. The last thing she needed was to worry about him while he was away.

They pulled up to the path which led up to the lighthouse with surprisingly little resistance. Or maybe it wasn’t surprising. Maybe it was just him. He frowned as he got out of the car. No one had said much to him on the way back—except Prompto, who had insisted on talking no matter what. They were probably going to have some kind of deeply serious discussion of this later, but he tried to put the thought out of his mind as he looked around Cape Caem.

It was as green and peaceful as ever. It annoyed him that that seemed strange to him now. This was how it was _supposed_ to be. He ought to have adjusted to being back by now. But he hadn’t. And he wouldn’t. He could sense it. He tried his best not to scowl. No point in bringing down everyone else around him just because they didn’t know what might happen if they didn’t succeed. After all, that was the point of not telling them in the first place. His muscles were aching horribly. He felt a distinct sense of deja vu as Iris approached them.

“Gladdy!” she said, quickly running up to Gladio and pulling him into a tight hug.

Noctis smiled in spite of himself. At least he’d done something right.

“Hi there, Iris,” said Gladio, also smiling, as he ruffled her hair affectionately.

“I knew you’d come,” she said, grinning widely as she released him. “I told Talcott you’d be here soon. He’ll be pleased to see you again.”

“How’s he holding up?” asked Gladio, now looking a touch concerned.

“Oh, he’s fine!” said Iris, beckoning for them to follow her up the path to Cape Caem. “I think to him this just feels like one big holiday. Even if we...can’t really go back home. If anyone seems upset it’s Jared. I know he puts on a brave face for us, but I can tell he didn’t like leaving Insomnia behind.”

“He’s old,” said Gladio, with a sigh. “I know it doesn’t affect his duties, but when you live in a city your whole life and you’ve been around as long as Jared has...it’s got to be rough leaving all that behind.”

“Yeah,” said Iris, quietly.

Noctis didn’t quite know what to say. He didn’t even know if he _should_ say something. This was new to him—he had no idea what his role was in this new group where Jared was still alive. Not that that was a bad thing; it was a damn sight better than him having been tortured to death by Caligo. It was...strange though. Noctis decided it might be best to remain quiet. For now, anyway.

“Hey, Noct,” said Prompto, quietly coming up beside him.

Or not.

“Hi,” said Noctis, his attempts not to be so gloomy already foiled by the tiredness in his voice. He really was exhausted though.

“How’re you doing?” he asked, and while he didn’t look quite as devastated as he had earlier, he still didn’t exactly look happy.

“I’m...okay,” said Noctis, trying his damnedest to believe that was true. “I mean, yeah, my nightmares are getting shitter, but otherwise...I think I’m doing better than before.”

“That’s good,” said Prompto, now smiling genuinely for once.

Noctis felt his heart twinge a little. It was fine. Prompto would probably never find out. Not if all went as planned, anyway.

“Looking forward to putting your feet up for a bit?” asked Noctis, diverting the conversation towards a less fraught topic.

“ _Am_ I?” asked Prompto, with a grin. “You know it, Noct! I feel like I haven’t actually sat down in a building for like, two years.”

“Yeah,” said Noctis, smiling. “It’s been a while.”

Truthfully he didn’t really know how he felt about getting the chance to rest again. If there was one good thing all this moving around had done for him, it had cleared up his time travel relapses like a charm. He suspected that would not be the case when they actually got to stay a while at Caem. Especially with Jared around. He’d be less likely to actually forget what was happening, sure, but the flashbacks had been becoming...brutal. Add in his worsening nightmares and the Starscourge and...well. The sooner Cid got there the better.

They were coming up close to the lighthouse now. The safe house had come into view. It was such a ramshackle little building. Sure, it was warm enough at night and kept out the rain but...it had felt incredibly empty the last time he was there. Maybe that would be different now. What would that even mean for him? He hesitated as he came up to the door. Iris was standing just in front of him, holding it open and smiling. He almost didn’t want to go in.

But no—he was being ridiculous! It wasn’t like there would be Imperial troops in there.

He entered the building.

It was bright inside, with an overall atmosphere of calm and quiet. Everything seemed to be immaculately clean; probably Monica’s influence. He remembered she liked things to be neat and tidy. Talcott was standing next to the table, and grinned widely as he entered. Someone was happy to see him at least. And there, just behind him, looking as severe and no-nonsense as ever, stood Jared. Noctis blinked a few times. He’d been expecting it, naturally, but still, it was incredibly strange. He felt wrong somehow. Like he was watching from outside, rather than standing in the room looking at things with his own two eyes. 

“Hello, Prince Noctis!” said Talcott with an excited bow. “Did you find the sword?”

For a moment Noctis wondered if he really had lost it again. What sword?

“Yeah, thanks Talcott,” said Gladio, smiling warmly down at him. “Your tip lead us right to it.”

Talcott beamed at this praise. Oh, right. _That_  sword. The one behind the waterfall. It seemed like an age ago.

“Noct and his friends are going to be staying here for a while,” said Iris, closing the door behind her. “Right, Noct?”

“Oh, um, yeah,” said Noctis, taken a little off guard. “Until the boat is fixed.”

That wasn’t true; he’d need to go and find the mythril first. At least he’d remembered not to mention it this time.

“Speaking of the boat,” said Ignis, breaking his silence, “any update from Cid on how long it will take him to get here?”

Noctis could estimate purely based on the distance, but dutifully got out his phone and checked it. He had one voicemail.

“Well boy, I’ve finished packing up my stuff and I’m getting ready to head over to Caem as I speak. It’ll take me a day or so to get there, so don’t go tooling off to wherever before I arrive! And turn your phone off silent! Kids these days…”

“He says he’ll be here in a day or so, and I got this while we were driving so...probably tomorrow or the day after,” said Noctis, storing his phone away once more.

He tried to look on the bright side; at least it wouldn’t be almost a week like it had been in Lestallum. On the other hand, it was easy to run away in Lestallum—easy to hide from the others when everything was too much. Here...there was the safe house, the lighthouse and the open road. He hadn’t taken the car while in Lestallum. That would have been provocation. Here though? It was different. He was trapped.

He couldn’t help but scowl as he looked around the house. What a nice place to be trapped in. He was whining and he knew it. But it was getting dark outside now and he wasn’t tired at all. Just like Lestallum. Dammit.

“It’s getting dark out now,” said Jared, peering out the window. “I’ll leave you children to your fun.”

He sighed almost imperceptibly, then left the room.

“See?” said Iris, after Jared had gone out of earshot. “It’s like he’s...worn out.”

“That would seem to be accurate, yes,” said Ignis, sitting down in a chair and looking less than happily around the room.

Iris quickly noticed the rather downtrodden attitude of the group.

“Let’s not talk about that right now, huh?” she said, now smiling again, though Noctis got the impression it was more for their benefit than any actual happiness she might have. “Um, we should do something—we have a ton of old board games here, if you want to play?”

“That sounds great, Iris,” said Gladio, reaching under the table to retrieve what Noctis could only assume was one of the old board games, and began setting it up on the table.

“Oh hey, retro!” said Prompto, rushing over to the table and plonking himself down in a seat. “Care to join us, Noct?”

Noctis was about to answer to the effect of ‘yes’ if only to make himself tired enough to sleep later, when he felt something that made him stop. A twinge in his right hand. A painful twinge. It was high time he saw to that particular situation of his.

“I...need to go to the bathroom,” he said, coming up with the quickest excuse off the top of his head. “I’ll be back out in a minute though.”

“Cool.”

Noctis hurried into the downstairs bathroom and locked the door behind him. At least he wouldn’t have to use his phone for light this time. He decided it might be best to get the process over with as quickly as possible this time, though that did leave him with the issue of how to dispose of the old bandage. He probably shouldn’t put it in the Armiger. He spied a window high in the wall opposite the door. Hopefully no one would be looking outside when he pulled off his little burning act.

He quickly removed the first aid kit from the top shelf of the cabinet above the sink, pulling out the bandages and unwrapping them so he could bind the injury as quickly as possible. He then removed his glove. He couldn’t be hesitant this time. It wouldn’t be long until the others wondered what he was doing; whether he was in trouble again. He unwrapped the bandages, frowning as he noticed the ichor starting to show through the white gauze. Then his hand was revealed once more.

He felt himself shaking slightly.

Though it was less painful than it might otherwise be—whatever effect Ramuh’s gift had had on him still seemed to be there, it looked...bad.

The wound had begun to close, but with that came a price—the black ichor surrounding it had begun to spread. The veins beneath his skin around the wound were starting to go a terrifying black. The Starscourge was beginning to set in.

He was shaking badly now, hardly able to keep his hand in place. No—he needed to finish this before anything else. He couldn’t let the infection spread.

He grabbed the new bandage and started wrapping it fiercely around his hand, trying not to think about what it meant. He then pulled his glove on and was conjuring a flame to his fingers before he could think clearly about what he was doing. He thrust the soiled bandage out of the window and watched, trying to control his breathing, as flames flickered and slowly spread across its length. He dropped it out of the window.

He rushed back over to the sink, fumbling with the tap and splashing water over his face. He couldn’t panic now. Letting the others think he’d gotten sick from something or other was the last thing he needed. He looked up at himself in the mirror. It was an eerie sensation. He still looked mostly the same as before, but incredibly tired and strung out—like he’d been awake for days. He certainly _felt_ like he’d been awake for days. And his eyes looked...different. As though they had some sort of film over them. It was hard to see, even in the strong light of the bathroom, but they had definitely changed somehow. Noctis thought about how the light had been hurting his eyes. This was bad.

He splashed water in his eyes as well, hoping that might take some of the edge off, before emerging back into the main room, where everyone else was gathered around the table. Everyone except Monica, Talcott and Jared, that was.

“Monica and Talcott have gone to bed,” said Ignis, spotting Noctis and quickly guessing at the source of his confusion.

“I see,” said Noctis, joining them at the table, hoping they wouldn’t notice anything was wrong.

The evening passed quickly. Noctis didn’t really join in with most of the games, instead content to watch his friends having fun. The thought of the Starscourge loomed large in the back of his mind, but a few times he was able to thrust it away—the atmosphere around him chased away the dark thoughts. For a time, anyway. It wasn’t too long until everyone was tired though, and that meant bed.

Noctis collapsed onto his, still fully clothed, not wanting to sleep, not wanting to rest, but feeling so utterly exhausted he had no choice.

Sleep had found him once more, and, as he was gradually starting to learn; with sleep, came nightmares. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is actually kind of a nice chapter! Or at least less angsty than my usual fare. I thought Noctis and the bros should have at least a little time off from saving the world, so it was nice writing this chapter. Also, Iris is back! I knew I was going to write her again, and this was the perfect opportunity. She's also a bit happier than before, since, you know, Jared's still alive and everything. Not everything is tragedy! Only most of it. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed this new chapter and if so, let me know!


	37. Reflections

Noctis had assumed that at some point the nightmares would stop. That his repeated and disturbing dreams would gradually fade away, leaving him with some much-needed rest. That they’d been brought on by suddenly being jerked into the past with no prior warning whatsoever.

So far, he’d been wrong.

Without fail, night after night, those terrible dreams haunted him—turned sleep into a time he dreaded, left him exhausted and hopeless each and every day. And now they seemed to be spreading—spreading to his unconscious body, making him choke and scream like he did in his nightmares. So when Noctis fell asleep that night in Cape Caem, he fully expected to be haunted by his usual visions of Lestallum and daemons and death. He was very surprised, therefore, when he ended up somewhere else entirely.

* * *

Noctis was vaguely aware that he was not lying on solid ground. His eyelids slowly flickered open, and he squinted in the bright light that seemed to be coming from all around. He could hardly see for the brightness, trying to shield his eyes with his hand as he pushed himself upright. The ground beneath him felt cold and wet, but also...loose, somehow, as though if he were to press down harder or jump up and down, the ground would give way beneath him. He stumbled to his feet, and as he did he noticed something else. There was a sharp smell in the air—the smell of the sea. Cold wind was biting at him from all sides. He realised he didn’t have a jacket on anymore. He hugged himself, shivering in the chill.

His eyes were beginning to adjust to the light. As he looked around again, now trying to work out where he was, he couldn’t help but wonder if his eyesight had suddenly deteriorated. Everything around him was a strange, blurry mass, and he could hardly tell where he was at all. He could just about work out the basic components of the world around him. He was standing on what was probably a street, a tall white mass beside him, and a blue flat mass on the other side. It didn’t take him long to realise that the blue mass was probably the sea, just going off the smell and the sensation.

He reached down to touch it, and flinched away when it seemed to rise up to meet him. Wet. Definitely the ocean. Why was he near the ocean? Was that important somehow? Why was it so hard to see—no, focus, on the world around him? He frowned. Or at least, he hoped he did. He felt like he was frowning.

He stumbled forwards, following what he assumed to be the street, following it around the edge of the ocean, looking out over the vast, surging mass. Slowly, something else came into view. At the point where his perception ended, where the cloudy-ness of his vision would allow him to see, there was...something. Something huge. Just beyond his reach. As he continued along the street, slowly getting closer and closer, the being came into view. Sort of, anyway.

He could tell it was large, easily ten times taller than the blocks that Noctis could only take to be houses, dotted all around. Though the being was blurred and shimmering, something told Noctis it was very much alive. It wasn’t moving, but it seemed to be...breathing, somehow. It had raised itself up to a colossal height, peering furiously down at...something else. Noctis began to move faster. He needed to see this creature and what it was looking at. It was...important.

As he jogged up to its side, he began to see what it was peering at. A platform, extended out over the ocean. Was it the ocean? Something tugged at his memory. His mind ached. He stopped for a moment, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Something shifted beneath him.

He quickly opened his eyes and threw out his arms. He didn’t want to lose his balance. But he’d changed—no, his location had changed. He was _on_ the platform now and he could see now precisely what the being was staring at. A...person. Noctis couldn’t tell who it was. They, like everything else he could see, were amorphous and vague, like looking through glasses that weren’t yours. But he could see some things. Dark clothing, dark hair, but pale skin. Standing tall, proud—unafraid. There was something else there too though—there almost seemed to be a strange kind of aura around them. Dark, cloudy, _diseased_. Noctis felt his breath hitch in his throat.

Then these two figures; the huge, terrifying being above and the person standing just in front of him, began to move. A voice as loud as thunder echoed in his head. The words were wrong somehow—not in another language, just incomprehensible. There were some bits that came through clearly though, making Noctis’s head ache with the worst migraine he’d had since...he couldn’t remember.

“Foolish...mortal… Power...destruction…”

Then the person in front of him spoke. Well, didn’t _speak_ exactly. They just...laughed. That was vague and distorted too—like a hundred people laughing; all crossing over and repeating and echoing. Then only one.

The being was angry. Noctis could feel himself flinching instinctively away from its wrath, but the figure in front of him held fast, undaunted by what was going on. There was something else to them; not just the aura of disease around them. Something was wrong. As the being reared back, aiming to strike, Noctis could see intense flashes of light surrounding the figure standing before him, permeating the dark aura around them like lightning in a thunderstorm. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. His very being seemed to ache as he watched the scene unfold before him. A deep unknowable pain shook him to his core, and he didn’t move as the being came crashing down on top of them, didn’t think as he felt himself being crushed beneath its weight, didn’t breathe as his life faded away.

* * *

He was awake. And for about two seconds he was in _agony_. Every nerve in his body told him he was being crushed by an immense weight on top of him—he couldn’t even scream; his windpipe was broken. But then it stopped. Noctis could feel every muscle he had tense up instinctively and he immediately curled up into a ball, not wanting to feel, not wanting to think, just wanting to know he was alive. His breathing was fast and erratic. He was still _breathing_ though; in and out, in and out. He tried to concentrate on that. Still breathing. Still alive. It wasn’t real. Not yet.

He slowly relaxed his muscles again. They ached, but it was a regular kind of ache—the kind you would normally have after having just had a series of terrible nightmares and terrible _things_ happen to you. He was still exhausted though. Even his eyelids seemed to ache in protest. He hadn’t been getting any restful sleep—hadn’t had any since Insomnia, probably. An ironic thought to be sure. He scowled, even though he felt as though he was on the verge of tears. Crying would be loud, scowling was not. He felt as though his brain was splitting at the seams and he didn’t even know whether it was the time travel or the trauma or the Starscourge that was making him feel that way. Maybe it was all of them. Maybe it didn’t matter.

He sat up straight in his bed, looking around the room. His eyes had adjusted to the dark. Everyone else was asleep. He’d honestly rather die than try to sleep again that night. He remembered being told once that just sitting with your eyes closed was restful enough to renew your energy. He didn’t dare try it though. He might _actually_ fall asleep if he did that. He put his face in his hands and sighed as loudly as he dared. How did it always end like this?

Deciding quickly that doing _something_ was better than sitting in bed and brooding (he’d already had one lifetime of that thank you) he staggered out of bed and grabbed his bag from where it was sitting on the floor. Taking care not to make too much noise, he slung it over his shoulder and left the bedroom, descending the stairs as quietly as he could to sit at the table downstairs. The chairs were somehow more uncomfortable than they’d been earlier in the night.

Taking another cursory glance around the house to make sure no one was spying on him, he reached into his Armiger to get out his secret list. He had some updating to do.

Scribbling down the changes he’d noticed almost soothed him a little. He’d done _something_ good after all. Jared was still there. It wasn’t long though until he found his hands shaking and his mind blank. It was hard to focus with the lack of light, and he kept on thinking about what happened last time he woke up before the others.

Ardyn.

He’d been there, in Lestallum, before he’d captured Noctis. He’d been there at Galdin when they arrived. And he’d mentioned the incident with the daemons that had caused some of this awkward mess. He was watching them. Watching Noctis. He might be watching him right... _now._

Noctis felt his entire body seize up as an intense shiver ran down his spine. Tears started welling up in his eyes, to his intense fury, as the thought ate at his brain. What would that even mean? He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

He felt himself gasping for breath as terror ran through his very veins. He should be angry, not afraid. But he was. He was so, so afraid.

“Prince Noctis?”

A voice in the darkness, but it wasn’t Ardyn’s. Noctis looked up from where he was hunched over the table, and saw Monica in a dressing gown, looking down at him from her doorway at the top of the stairs. He’d probably woken her up. Dammit.

“Hi, Monica,” he said, his voice cracking as he spoke, his throat sore from crying, from...everything.

Monica smiled and made her way down the stairs. As she came closer, Noctis noticed that she seemed tired too. Not the tiredness of someone woken in the early hours of the morning, no, something deeper. Something like him. Someone who’d been tired for a long time, for a lot of reasons, reasons too complicated to just say aloud.

“Have you been having nightmares, Your Highness?” asked Monica, and Noctis could suddenly remember a different time.

A time when he was younger. Much younger. He sat in a wheelchair, and tried not to speak to adults. He’d been so frightened back then. All that death...he tried not to think about it, but it always came back in his sleep. He’d been so tired back then. People asked him about it sometimes, but he always remained silent. They wouldn’t understand. He could hardly recall it now. It seemed so, so long ago. And someone had asked him that back then, all those years ago. How had he responded? He didn’t remember. Perhaps it didn’t matter.

He nodded.

Monica sat down just across from him.

“They aren’t such an uncommon thing in this household, I’m afraid,” she said wistfully, glancing up at her side of the house. “I’m surprised Lady Iris didn’t find you before me.”

“She’s...been having nightmares?” asked Noctis, his voice still constricted.

This was new to him. He didn’t recall Iris having nightmares before. But perhaps she had—he’d simply been too wrapped up in his own mind to notice. He felt that guilty tension in him once more. He’d been such a fool.

“Yes, quite bad ones, I understand,” said Monica, her voice as quiet and unassuming as ever, though there was a slight tension there too. “Of course, that isn’t unusual in people who’ve gone through what she has.”

“No,” said Noctis, his mind racing.

Iris had been there when Insomnia fell. Saw all that burning, all that death. Just like him. Of course it wouldn’t be surprising she was traumatised. And her father was gone too. Noctis ought to be able to relate to that terrible loss, but he found to his dismay that he simply couldn’t. It was gone. Out of his reach. A tragedy that had run its course. In his mind, everything that was still happening had already happened, uncountable years ago. All that trauma, all that upheaval, all that death—it paled in comparison with what was to come. And it was terrifying.

“You know we’re here for you, don’t you, Your Highness?” asked Monica, looking steadily at him.

“I do,” said Noctis, and it was true, to a certain extent. They certainly wouldn’t be here without him. Though he wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“You might find that your troubles are more familiar than you realise,” said Monica, smiling slightly.

For a moment, Noctis wasn’t sure what she meant. But then something clicked. She had already been awake when she saw him. She had woken up early too. Nightmares weren’t uncommon in the house. She had them too. And she was a soldier, after all, it would almost be stranger if she didn’t have them. But he’d never thought about it before. So many people around him, so much suffering and he hadn’t even noticed. Because he was used to it? Or because he just didn’t really think of them as people? It was an uncomfortable thought. And they had no idea what was to come. No idea that life as they knew it was going to come to a screeching, irreparable end in a matter of months. They had so little time.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not even sure why he was saying it. Something immense was sitting in his chest, choking him, filling his thoughts with an impenetrable fog. Grief? Perhaps.

“It’s alright, Prince Noctis,” said Monica, with a slight frown.

“But it might not be!” he said, panic spilling out into his voice. He hated this; he hated this waiting, he hated this hiding. He was going to die soon. It wasn’t fair!

“You can’t know that for certain.”

But he could. He knew everything.

“I…” he caught himself before he finished. He would not inflict this pain on them. “I’m sorry, Monica. I’m just...it’s a lot, right now.”

“I understand, Your Highness,” said Monica, getting up from the table again. “I’m going to try and get some sleep now. Perhaps you could try the same?”

“Maybe a bit later,” said Noctis, resting his head in his hands. “I just need...some time to think.”

“Of course,” said Monica, and disappeared behind the door once more.

And so he did. He sat, and let thoughts race through his mind, let the situation wash over him, until the darkness outside began to fade, and the light crept in once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a...fun chapter. Noctis's nightmares are always interesting but this one was particularly hard to write. It was really difficult to convey the tone with the circumstances! Also, Ardyn just gets creepier the more I write him. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if so, let me know.


	38. The Fading Dawn

Light shone in from every window in the house, and as it did, Noctis felt his eyes begin to ache. He frowned and rubbed them, hoping it was just a one-off problem, but as soon as he opened them again he felt a lancing pain through his eyeballs. Frowning, he reached into his bag and pulled out his sunglasses, placing them carefully over his eyes. The pain faded. Hopefully the others wouldn’t needle him too much over wearing them indoors.

He could hear vague sounds from the rooms above him. The others were waking up. He sighed to himself. He felt as though he was going in circles. More nightmares, less sleep, less focus, more likely to slip up. It was a vicious cycle.

Just as he was pondering what to tell them this time, he heard the sound of a car pulling up on the side of the road. He got the sneaking suspicion he knew who it was. Pulling his jacket back on and taking a mental note that he needed a shower soon, he left the house and looked down at the road below. It was as he had suspected. Cid’s truck was sitting on the verge; it’s bright yellow paint was hard to miss in the grey light of dawn. Noctis started to slowly make his way down to it, feeling a deep sense of relief in his mind that he wouldn’t have to stay at Cape Caem much longer.

Cid was already out of the truck and fiddling with some tools in the back when Noctis caught sight of him, only looking up when Noctis cleared his throat.

“Well, if it ain’t Prince Noctis,” he said, smiling grimly. “I’d never have thought I’d see you up at this hour! Is it a special occasion?”

“No,” said Noctis, hopping down next to Cid to take a look in his van. “Just felt like getting up early for once.”

“Huh,” said Cid, not looking at all convinced. 

It was fine. He didn’t need to convince Cid. He needed to save his acting energy for the others.

“Did you drive all night?” asked Noctis, looking at the truck with curiosity. “Isn’t that kind of dangerous these days?”

“Well, usually, yeah,” frowning as he examined what looked like a spanner. “But we had some hunters drive through not long ago, and my Cindy got ‘em to find these fancy headlights for her. Fixed ‘em up to the truck and there you go! Don’t have to worry about daemons with these.”

“Oh, um, that’s lucky,” said Noctis, his mind racing.

So, in his absence, someone else had found the headlights for Cindy. That did make sense; the world _would_ continue on without him, after all, but something screamed to him that this was strange and wrong. It didn’t take long for it to come to him. The headlights affixed to the Regalia were already upgraded. For all Ignis’s worrying, daemons wouldn’t bother them in the night anymore. Had...had the Regalia travelled through time with him? He scowled deeply. It didn’t make sense. Why hadn’t his friends travelled with him? His _car_ came through but they didn’t? What a joke.

“Well, I can go and take a look at that boat for you, and I’ll let you know how much it’ll cost to fix it up once I’m done,” said Cid, toolbox at the ready, looking around for the boat.

“It’s this way,” said Noctis, beginning to walk up towards the lighthouse.

“What, it’s up there?” asked Cid, looking confused before something dawning on him. “Ah, it all comes back to me now. The port’s below the lighthouse. Don’t worry boy, I can get there myself.”

“If you say so,” said Noctis, looking a touch worried, hoping to annoy Cid.

Cid huffed then continued up to the lighthouse. Noctis smiled in spite of himself. Had he ever had such a light-hearted exchange with Cid before? Probably not. Too much time in his own head. He could feel his mood dropping again though as he looked back at the house where they were staying. It wasn’t empty anymore, but Noctis almost wished it was. At least he’d know what he was doing if it was the same as last time. Perhaps he’d have a better shot if this happened...again.

What?

Again...could it happen again? Surely...no. No. It couldn’t. There was no way. But perhaps… What if he was wrong?

He wanted to scream with frustration but instead he just hissed quietly to himself and rubbed his face with his hands. He had to snap out of it. This was why he shouldn’t be left alone with his thoughts. It always ended up like this. Facing the others was almost preferable to thinking about how all this happened.

He marched back over to the door, pulling it open with a jolt, only to almost go barrelling into Talcott.

“Woah! Talcott! Didn’t see you there,” said Noctis, stepping quickly aside as he noticed Talcott.

“Sorry, Prince Noctis!” said Talcott, looking a bit alarmed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Noctis couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It’s okay Talcott. But, where are you going? Isn’t it a bit early for you to be up and about?”

“It’s already seven o’clock, Prince Noctis!” said Talcott, making Noctis’s brain ache slightly. Usually he’d rather be dead than awake at seven.

“Oh, is that so?” he said, rubbing his eyes, which were still aching, but now more from tiredness than any supernatural cause.

“Yes!” said Talcott, clearly excited. How on Eos did he have so much energy? “I wanted to check on the garden! Lady Iris said yesterday that my sunflowers might have begun growing by now!”

“You planted...sunflowers?” asked Noctis, confused. He thought the garden was meant for growing food.

“Yes,” said Talcott, now hopping down the stairs out of the house. Noctis hurried out after him, not wanting him to get hurt by accident. “We’re growing lots of other things too, but the sunflowers will grow the fastest.”

“I...see,” said Noctis, actually struggling to keep pace with Talcott. He was still sluggish and tired from how long he’d been awake, not to mention all of the fighting…

“Here we are!” said Talcott, proudly pointing to several churned up squares of earth amidst the rest of the grassy field.

He then got down on his knees and squinted at one particular lump. He then gasped and waved Noctis over. Trying not to smile, Noctis got down next to him, and looked where he was looking. Sure enough, a tiny green stem was beginning to poke through the soil. New life. Somewhere in the back of Noctis’s head, the idea that the sunflower probably wouldn’t be around long snuck into his mind. He brushed the thought away. That was the point. That was why he was trying as best he could to rush through this as soon as possible. He wouldn’t just leave them to their fate. Not this time.

Talcott was smiling eagerly at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Looks like it’s growing pretty fast, right?” he said, internally slapping himself for stating the obvious. Talcott didn’t seem to mind though.

“Sunflowers _do_ grow very quickly, Prince Noctis,” said Talcott, in a very matter-of-fact sort of voice.

“They sure do,” said Noctis, rising to his feet again and glancing back towards the house. The others would probably be waking soon.

“That’s why we planted them, soon they won’t be able to grow well anymore.”

“Yeah,” said Noctis, “though maybe not for the reason you think.”

For a moment he felt his heart stop a little, but thankfully Talcott didn’t seem to be paying much attention to what he said. He really needed to get a handle on this.

“It’s going to be a nice day today, isn’t it?” said Talcott, looking up at the sky.

Noctis glanced up too, and sure enough there didn’t seem to be a cloud in evidence. Which was strange, because he still felt rather cold. He was tempted to write it off as low blood pressure, but what with his other little situation, he decided it was probably best to be safe rather than sorry.

“Probably,” said Noctis, frowning slightly. The dawn was tiny bit later than usual as well. Only a tiny bit. No one else would notice. But he did. And he didn’t like it at all.

Talcott had already busied himself with some other distraction, leaving Noctis to look up at the sky and plan his next move. Something was wrong, that much was clear. He was _perhaps_ a little more jumpy than usual, but the night certainly shouldn’t be lasting like this so soon. He hadn’t really seen anything else that had dramatically changed in Lucis, perhaps because they hadn’t really wasted time with finding the Astrals, but still. All signs pointed to Niflheim. Something was happening there. Something different. Something out of Noctis’s control.

Perhaps it had to do with Ardyn’s change in attitude. If he’d gotten sick of toying with them so quickly, he might be accelerating his plan in Niflheim. If the demonic outbreak was already in full swing, then the nights would be drawing in again. But if that was the case then they’d have only a few weeks at most...surely it wouldn’t happen _that_ quickly? Ardyn had been so careful last time, so...masterful, in manipulating them to where he wanted them to be. Would he really have sacrificed all that because of Noctis’s actions at the Quay? It didn’t seem like him. No, there was something else, something Noctis was missing.

Perhaps...perhaps it wasn’t him at all. Perhaps it was _Luna_. He hadn’t met with her last time, and he knew damn well Ardyn had been somewhere nearby when they found each other that night in Lestallum...perhaps he was...scared? It seemed wrong to think of Ardyn being scared about anything, but he’d had such a vested interest in keeping them apart last time. Now they’d met, they had plans. Luna was already in Altissia, that was the same, but Ardyn seemed to be so resentful of Luna, so volatile—there was something to do with the both of them he didn’t know about. Maybe that was the link he was missing.

Suddenly he heard a clatter behind him. Someone was moving in the house. Someone had woken up. Noctis turned to see who it was, quickly spotting Ignis in the window. Of course. Who else would be up so early? He gave a wave, and Ignis frowned, but waved back. Well, now he knew he wouldn’t wake someone else up, it was high time he had his shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this chapter was...interesting. I swear I didn’t plan for Cape Caem to be ‘minor NPC focus’ chapters, but here we are lol! Talcott’s a pretty endearing little kid, and it’s a shame we don’t see more of him in the game proper. Him dealing with Jared’s loss would have been an interesting parallel with Noct losing his caretakers at a similar age. Thankfully he doesn’t have to deal with that problem here, because, for all Noct’s angsting, he is actually changing things for the better—as far as the small things go anyway. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if so, let me know!


	39. Progression

Noctis slowly made his way up the stairs to the room he was sharing with the others, and, by extension, the en-suite. He noticed his muscles seemed to be aching quite a lot. Between his nightmares, essentially being tortured not long ago and just spending so much time on the road, he wasn’t surprised, though it _was_ deeply aggravating. Hopefully a shower would help with that.

As he opened the door to the room, he came face-to-face with Ignis, who’d clearly been waiting for him. Prompto was lying on the floor and still seemed mostly unconscious, despite the occasional mumble, and Gladio was lying on his back, almost certainly still asleep. Just the two of them then. This would be fun.

“Morning Ignis,” said Noctis, as he edged into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Up early for once, I see,” said Ignis, looking him square in the eyes. Noctis felt himself shudder involuntarily. Ignis was very intimidating when he wanted to be.

“Yeah,” said Noctis, now a little less confident in the decision to shut the door behind him. “Turned over a new leaf and all that.”

“It’s been happening a lot lately,” said Ignis, still staring him down. “These nightmares of yours...they’re still troubling you, aren’t they?”

“I…”

Noctis would usually deny it. Tell Ignis the nightmares had faded, and that he’d just gotten up early. But that would be wrong, this time. Besides, there was no harm in confirming his assumption. It wasn’t like he knew the real reason why the nightmares were happening anyway.

“They’re...bad,” said Noctis, still a touch reluctant on principle. “You know that. You saw what happened in the car. I can’t... _stop_ them from happening. I just...sometimes it’s better to be awake.”

“I see,” said Ignis, pushing his glasses a little further up his nose. “Are they also giving you headaches?”

“What?" asked Noctis, thoroughly confused. "No.”

“You’ve been wearing your sunglasses a lot too,” said Ignis, frowning. “Must you wear them inside Noctis?”

“I, um, my eyes have been sore,” said Noctis, thinking on his feet. Hopefully Ignis would buy it.

“Might be from sleep deprivation…” said Ignis, more to himself than to Noctis.

“Maybe,” said Noctis, deciding it might be best to leave the question in the air. “I’m just gonna take a shower. Been on the road a lot, you know?”

“Of course,” said Ignis, indicating the bathroom, though not really making a move to start actually getting ready himself. 

Noctis quickly headed inside, eager to get out of the awkward situation. He made sure to lock the door behind him. It would be no good if one of the others stumbled in and saw his hand… Speaking of, he really needed to check it again.

Noctis quickly took off his sunglasses, squinting at the painful light, before carefully removing his jacket, then his shirt, not wanting to catch either piece of clothing on his hand as he undressed. Then he went over to the sink and cautiously took off his gloves, taking a cursory look at the bandages. No ichor bleeding through this time...that was probably a good thing. But then, why was he shaking so badly? He could feel a chill in his very bones and he wasn’t sure whether it was due to the Starscourge or just stress at the prospect of looking at his hand—but either way, it was best to get it over with.

He quickly pulled away the bandage and flinched involuntarily at what he saw beneath. The wound had sealed. The Starscourge was beginning to spread. The ichor looked like black ink beneath his skin, forming intricate, interwoven lines as it ran through his veins. It hadn’t spread far, only a little further out over his hands—but it was enough.

Noctis felt a lump rise in his throat and it was harder to breathe; like his ribs were being constricted. He could feel an intense heat under his skin and his hearing began to dim as he heard a distant ringing. He was vaguely aware that he was panicking, that it would be bad if the others found him like this, but he had no idea what to do. He sank to his knees as it got harder and harder to find breath, still staring at his hand, unable to look away. For the first time he was horribly, intimately aware that this...infection was seeping into him, destroying him from the inside out, and he was _terrified_.

His vision was getting cloudier and cloudier as black spots crept in. He needed to do something, he needed to stop this. He carefully lowered himself to the ground as his vision faded completely and the ringing in his ears overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes and just tried desperately to breathe.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he came back to himself, his mind once again assembling into some sort of order. It was okay. He could do this. He pushed himself upright—then immediately had to reach for the toilet as sickness overtook him.

By the time he was done, he felt like every nerve in his body was screaming for death. He staggered back over to the mirror, and, sure enough, he looked almost exactly like what he always imagined a zombie would look like. He splashed some water on his face, only to be abruptly reminded of what he was in there for in the first place. His shower. Shit. They’d definitely be suspicious of him taking so long. He quickly moved over to it and put the water on full blast. Dammit. He had no idea whether or not they’d just heard that entire debacle.

He quickly finished getting undressed and got into the shower, the warmth temporarily relieving his aching muscles. For a moment he just stood and let the water wash over him, wash everything away. It was almost relaxing. Almost. After washing himself down with a decent amount of soap, he stepped outside again and started drying himself as quickly as possible, before getting dressed at lightning speed. He quickly moved over to the bandage and threw it in the bin. The wound had sealed, and it didn’t have any ichor on it, so it should be fine.

When he stepped out of the bathroom however, he was greeted by three less than pleased faces. Apparently Gladio and Prompto had woken up in his absence, and they did not look happy. Noctis felt himself unconsciously cringing away. This was bad.

“Care to explain what all that was about, Noct?” asked Ignis, who seemed coldly furious.

“Um, could you maybe be more specific?” asked Noctis, repressing the urge to back into the bathroom again and lock the door behind him.

“Well, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounded like you were having quite a severe bout of sickness in there,” said Ignis, still glaring. “We called out to you, several times, but you didn’t reply.”

“I, uh, I didn’t hear you,” said Noctis, trying his best to look as calm as possible while also not making eye-contact with any of them. Not that they’d be able to see behind his sunglasses anyway.

“Are you...okay, Noct?” asked Prompto, now looking more worried than anything else. “You look...kind of terrible.”

“Probably just a stomach bug,” said Noctis, anxiously scratching the back of his neck. “I think it’s just a one-off thing.”

“You sure Noct?” asked Gladio, also looking less than pleased. “You haven’t exactly been great from a...health standpoint lately.”

“I feel much better now,” said Noctis, deciding to leave out the part where his insides were still churning, and his eyes burned whenever they saw the light. “I’ll just...take it easy today.”

“That’s probably for the best,” said Ignis, whose expression softened a little. Noctis felt a little less weight on his chest. They were starting to believe him. Good.

“Um, Cid’s arrived, by the way,” said Noctis, the information suddenly coming back to him. “He says he’ll give us a price once he’s taken a look at the boat.”

“Why worry?” snorted Prompto. “With all the money with have left over he could charge us a fortune and we’d still be fine.”

Noctis’s eyes widened a little. So, they knew about the money situation. Ugh, this was so confusing. They knew some things but not others?

“Yeah, guess we were lucky,” said Noctis, not wanting to slip up so soon after getting them off his back about his health.

“It makes you wonder whether the King knew all of this was coming,” said Gladio, in a rather distant voice. This was new. “I mean, he couldn’t have thought we’d need so much just for the trip to Altissia.”

“I...suppose not,” said Noctis, trying to piece things together in his mind.

So, they thought his dad had given them the money. Perhaps this was something like the illusion they saw whenever he wore his old clothes. The thought was deeply unnerving though—that new memories had just sprung into place in the absence of information. This may end up being bad...but he could hardly ask them for details. No, he’d just need to be careful whenever he talked about the past...or the future, for that matter. More stress. Great.

“Perhaps you should sit down, Noct,” said Ignis, eyeing him warily. “You shouldn’t exert yourself too much today.”

Noctis instinctively felt his heart sink. Oh Astrals, what had he done? There was only one thing worse than feeling shitty all the time, and that was feeling shitty all the time _and_ being forced not to do anything. All of his worst slip-ups had happened when he was resting and he just wasn't ready for more of that nonsense right now. He needed a way out of this situation. 

“I’ll just...go downstairs…” said Noctis, already edging out of the door and half jogging down the stairs, wondering if he’d be able to make it to the car before they noticed what he was doing.

He was out of the front door in a flash and sped over towards the trees where he was less likely to be seen. By the time he got to the cover of the treeline he was beginning to feel foolish again. It wouldn’t be _that_ bad to sit inside with the others...would it? In the back of his mind he could feel old memories begin to play.

He was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he hadn’t moved in hours, and he wasn’t even sure if he _could_. He was sitting on the couch in his apartment. Everything in his vision was barren and grey. There was no hope, no sadness, no anything. Just emptiness. He was lying in a hospital room looking blankly ahead, not even able to recall exactly what had happened that lead him there, only that everything felt numb. So very, very numb...

No.

He couldn’t go back to that. He couldn’t go back to just doing nothing. Somewhere in his mind he knew it wasn’t the same as back then, but he seemed to recoil from the idea on instinct. His heart was racing in his chest. No, the last thing he needed was more stress. He could just go out for a drive. Something mindless. Peaceful, almost. He’d come back. He’d always come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, more confrontation. Fabulous. At least the bros are starting to believe Noct a bit more? Even though he is still lying through his teeth? This is just a bad situation all around to be honest... If they continue not to believe him they'll only further cause Noct to distrust them and grow the rift forming in the group, buut if they _do_ trust him they won't realise he's in serious trouble until it's too late. Augh pain. Anyway I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!


	40. On the Beach

As Noctis stumbled down the path to where Ignis had parked the car the day before, he once again felt an immense weight pushing down on him. He was beginning to get used to the constant exhaustion that seemed to plague him wherever he went, but it just felt particularly excruciating that day. It was probably because of the moment of panic he’d had before, but he tried to push the thought from his mind. He was only leaving to try and clear his head again, after all.

It wasn’t long before the Regalia came into view, it’s sleek, black form immediately lifting Noctis’s heart a little. The Regalia would never change, never not be the thing he’d always remembered it to be, both as a child and in his former life—a place where he was safe.

He was just reaching out to open the door, however, when a voice suddenly called out behind him.

“Noct!”

Noctis immediately jumped back from the car and whirled around to see who it was, terrified he might have been caught by one of his friends. He relaxed a little when he saw Iris hopping down the path towards him—only a little, there was still a chance she could go racing up to tell Gladio what she’d seen, but he was less tense, nonetheless.

“Hey Iris,” he said, smiling as warmly as he could at her, and she beamed back at him.

“Whatcha doing, Noct?” asked Iris, walking over to look at the Regalia. “You going somewhere?”

“Yeah, thought I could use a break,” said Noctis, shrugging as nonchalantly as he could given the circumstances.

“What, from your friends?” asked Iris, and Noctis actually flinched back a little at the question.

In his head, he told himself it wasn’t like that—he didn’t _hate_ them or anything, but something, a little voice in the back of his mind, told him that he was still trying to get away from them, trying to avoid talking to them. What she was saying was true. But he had no choice...why was everything so difficult now? Why couldn’t he just try to sit and spend time with his friends, relaxing again, like they had before? The answer came more quickly than he thought it would. Because it reminded him of before. It reminded him of how he failed. It reminded him of his depression, of his weakness, of his failure to stop Ardyn’s plan and save Eos from the Starscourge. Because he felt like every second passing him by was one wasted. Because he wanted to die.

“Sorry Noct, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” said Iris, her voice coming quietly from just next to him.

He looked over at her, just noticing her again.

“It’s fine,” he said, shaking his head and chuckling, though he didn’t feel happy at all. “I’ve just been having kind of a rough time lately. I don’t think they understand.”

Iris frowned and for a moment looked like she was going to say something before shaking her head.

“Yeah, I think I get it,” she said, sighing slightly.

Nightmares. Perhaps she really did.

“Do you wanna come with me?” asked Noctis, almost without thinking.

Iris’s eyes opened wide and she gave the biggest smile Noctis had ever seen. Actually, perhaps this wasn’t a good idea.

“Do I?” she asked, her voice filled with excitement. “There are so many places I couldn’t see on the way to Caem! Let’s go!”

“I, um, what do you want to see?” asked Noctis, not really prepared for what seemed to be happening.

“There’s that bit of coast not far from here!” said Iris, already opening the car door and clambering inside. “I wanted to stop and explore for a bit, but Monica wouldn’t let me.”

“Hmm, that does seem like her,” said Noctis, looking wearily down the road.

He realised Iris was probably referring to the area around Spelcray Haven—it wasn’t too far away and it wasn’t particularly dangerous either. Perhaps it would do her good to let her go and see it? He reluctantly took the driver’s seat.

“Seatbelts,” he said, without thinking. He had to pause for a moment once he realised he was mimicking Ignis. Or perhaps he was just older now? One way or another, Iris quickly clicked her seatbelt into place, and they were ready to go.

“You sure you want to do this?” asked Noctis, checking in with her once more.

“Positive, Noct,” said Iris, and though she was smiling, there was a kind of quiet seriousness about her.

“Let’s go then.”

* * *

It wasn’t long before the bit of coast that led up to the Haven came into view. Iris had been chatting with him the whole way, telling him about Talcott and Jared and Monica, what they’d been doing while he and the others had been away. It was almost...soothing, knowing that somewhere, somehow, life was still going on as usual. He brought the car to a stop by the stairs leading down to the beach.

“We’re here,” he announced, stepping out of the car and letting the sea breeze wash over him. It was oddly cold, even with the sun shining overhead. He brushed it off. He needed to try not to think too deeply.

“It’s such a nice day today, don’t you think, Noct?” asked Iris, already beginning to make her way down the steps onto the beach.

“It’s nice enough,” said Noctis, glancing up at the white clouds peppered across the sky. “It is almost summer.”

“Almost?” asked Iris, amused. “It _is_ summer. Technically speaking, anyway.”

“I—of course,” said Noctis, taken a little off-guard. Time had been moving on without him. He tried not to frown too deeply. He wouldn’t think about it. He _wouldn’t_.

“Come on, Noct!” called Iris, now at the bottom of the stairs.

Noctis hurried down after her. He knew it was probably unlikely that there would be anyone or anything at the bottom waiting for her, but nevertheless…

When he reached the bottom of the stairs the beach stretched out in front of him. No monsters yet. Good. Iris was already making her way towards the edge of the ocean, where the waves lapped at the sand. He slowly followed her, not having nearly enough energy to keep level with her energetic pace. For the first time in a while, he was beginning to feel his true age. Of course, the pain and exhaustion he was feeling was most certainly down to the Starscourge, but still. He felt like a thirty-year-old. He didn’t know exactly what to feel about that. Strange.

He watched from a distance as Iris kicked the sand and threw rocks into the sea, trying valiantly to skim one over the surface of the water. He tried not to chuckle. Picking up a long, smooth rock from the bay, he flung it out over the water, making it jump over the surface.

“Hey!” said Iris, with mocking indignation. “That’s not fair!”

“It’s just practice,” said Noctis grinning smugly.

“I _am_ practising!” said Iris, indignantly, picking up another rock and throwing into the water with an incredible splash.

“You need to kind of angle it,” said Noctis, picking up a rock and tossing it lightly over the surface of the water. “See?”

“Hmm,” said Iris, sticking her tongue out and mimicking his movements as she threw another stone into the water. It didn’t just drop like the last one, but it didn’t really _skip_ either… “Dammit!” muttered Iris.

Noctis repressed the urge to scold her for her language. He wasn’t Gladio after all. Instead he just picked up another rock and skimmed it smugly over the surface of the water.

“Now you’re just showing off,” muttered Iris, grumpily.

“Maybe,” said Noctis, still grinning.

“Fine, you can sit here skimming rocks while I go exploring!” she said, then began to jog up the shoreline towards where Noctis knew the Haven to be.

He sighed to himself then began jogging after her. He couldn’t let anything happen to her on his watch after all…

Suddenly he heard his phone ringing loud and clear in his pocket. He jumped, then quickly fumbled with it, trying to see who was calling. Gladio. Of course.

“Hey, what’s up?” asked Noctis, as cheerily as he could, keeping a close eye on Iris trying to climb up some rocks not far away.

“What’s _up_ is Iris is missing,” snarled Gladio down the line and Noctis could feel his heart dropping down to his feet. “Have you seen her or anything? Wherever the hell you are anyway.”

“Um, yeah, I’m down by Spelcray Haven?” said Noctis, thinking on his feet as fast as he could. “She threatened me! I had to take her down there.”

He was trying to make light of the situation, but there was a decent chance Gladio would be pissed anyway.

“What? Noct! She’s with you?” asked Gladio, alarm and relief ringing clear in his voice simultaneously.

“Yeah she’s climbing some rocks,” he said, still looking in her direction, as she slid back down towards the bottom of the pile as the rocks gave way beneath her. “I can bring her back, if you want.”

“So that’s where the car went…” muttered Gladio, and Noctis didn’t think he’d intended Noctis to hear. “No, so long as you keep a good eye on her I’m sure you two will be fine. _Won’t you?_ ”

“Oh, um, yeah, yeah, totally!” said Noctis, a touch alarmed.

“Good,” said Gladio, and he sounded much happier. “Be back before dark.”

“Yeah, duh,” said Noctis, but Gladio had already hung up.

Noctis rolled his eyes and shut the phone again.

“Who was that, Noct?” asked Iris, looking down at him from the top of the pile of rocks he’d managed to crawl to the top of.

“Your brother was worried I’d kidnapped you,” said Noctis, glancing up at her.

“What? That’s stupid! He can be such a dumbass sometimes,” said Iris, snorting.

“Hey, he’s _your_ brother,” said Noctis, smiling as he walked up to the bottom of the pile. “Anything else you want to see?”

“Hmm,” said Iris, resting her head in her hands. “Hey, Noct!” she said, suddenly sitting up with excitement.

“What?” asked Noctis, whirling around to look behind him, still on guard after the Ardyn fiasco.

“Look, there’s a pier over there!” she said, pointing towards the plank further up the shore. “You want to go fishing?”

“I...I…”

Noctis couldn’t quite find what he wanted to say. He didn’t want to go fishing, but he didn’t know why. He had always _used_ to want to go fishing, even when it was incredibly inconvenient. The peaceful sound of the ocean, the ability to just sit and wait, without the pressure of anything coming next...all of that was gone now. He just stood and looked strickenly at the pier. Had he really lost so much over these past few weeks? He couldn’t even enjoy fishing? But no, it was more than that. Many, many years lay in between, flashing, surging at the break in his memory. A decade in the crystal. A world consumed by darkness. He didn’t have time to fish.

“I’m sorry, Iris,” he said, still staring out at the pier, feeling a great emptiness in his chest. “I just don’t think I’m up to it right now.”

“Right,” said Iris, and her voice sounded doubtful. “Do you wanna go back then, or?”

“No, if you want to stay then we can say,” he said quickly, not wanting to ruin her day just because he got a flash of gloominess.

“Hey, no it’s fine. I bet Cid will have finished with that boat now too, right?”

“Yeah, probably,” said Noctis, giving a half-hearted smile as she slid down the pile of rocks next to him. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a fun chapter! Noct did actually get to chill out for once, which is always nice. That said, it was a real struggle to write. I'm able to keep updating with my usual schedule for now, but as Uni continues I may have to space out my chapters a bit more to make time for work. Thanks for bearing with me!


	41. Purpose

It wasn’t long before the lighthouse that towered over Cape Caem came back into view. Noctis couldn’t help but feel his heart sinking slightly as he saw it drawing closer and closer, even though he knew he should really be happier about being able to reunite with his friends again. He shook his head and tried to focus on driving, even if he was beginning to feel a deep weight in his chest whenever he tried to distract himself.  
  
Iris had been quiet on the way back, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. Noctis didn’t bother her. He knew how it felt.   
  
Cid was standing by the truck as Noctis came in to park the car. He gave Noctis a passing glance as he stepped out, before smirking and twirling his spanner in his hands.   
  
“The old girl’s done well, considering how old she is,” he said, glancing back towards the lighthouse. “You seen her yet?”  
  
“I—”  
  
“No, he hasn’t,” said Iris, cutting him off as she stepped out of the car. “Not really had time, have you Noct?”   
  
“No,” he said. “I haven’t really been here long.”  
  
“Huh,” said Cid, not really paying him much mind. “Your pals said as much when they ducked in to see me. I’ve already negotiated the price with your glasses friend—I assume that’s alright. If it’s not then it’s between you an’ him.”   
  
“No, no it’s fine,” said Noctis, repressing the urge to sigh that he hadn’t been there. It wasn’t like he was short on cash or anything. “Is there...anything else I should know?” he asked, the mythril still looming large in his mind.  
  
Cid snorted.   
  
“Not much!” he said, with a laugh. “Unless you boys can see your way to getting me some mythril, that is. But y’all aren’t exactly hunters, now are you?”  
  
“I’m sure we could dig some out for you,” said Noctis, careful not to seem too nonchalant, even though he was a touch unnerved that they’d fallen so low in Cid’s estimation.   
  
“Pfft,” snorted Cid, and Noctis found himself bristling a touch. “This ain’t some ore you can just buy at the store, boy. You’d have to go mining to find it. And I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the Empire’s gone crawling into every last one of those black holes these past few years. Dunno what they’re looking for, but they sure as hell aren’t gonna let you waltz in there and take whatever you want. On your own head be it though. I didn’t put you up to this.”  
  
“No,” said Noctis, smiling with his teeth but not his eyes. “Don’t worry Cid. You’ll have that ore.”  
  
“Humph,” said Cid, returning to fiddling with the tools in the truck.   
  
Noctis decided to ignore him and make his way up towards the patchwork house near the lighthouse, where he was sure the others would be waiting for him.   
  
“Well he was in a sour mood,” sniffed Iris, walking up beside him, back towards the house.   
  
“That’s just Cid,” sighed Noctis.  
  
“Huh, I didn’t know you hung out with such cantankerous sorts, Noct,” she said, glancing back at the bright yellow truck.   
  
“Usually, I don’t,” he said, staying focused on the house just ahead. Ignis was standing outside. That probably wasn’t good.   
  
“What—oh,” said Iris, also catching sight of Ignis. “Um, you told them you were going, right?”  
  
“Nope,” said Noctis, affecting as cheery an air as he could under the circumstances. “Why would I do that? That would have been sensible.”  
  
“Noooct,” said Iris, whining quietly as they got closer and closer to the house.   
  
“Well, if it isn’t our two missing persons,” said Ignis, as they came into earshot.   
  
He didn’t look happy, which wasn’t great, but he also didn’t look angry, which was probably the best Noctis could hope for, given everything else.   
  
“Did you miss us?” asked Noctis, refusing to take the bait and pretend to be guilty. “We went to the beach.”  
  
“So Gladio told me,” said Ignis, and he actually seemed a little surprised at Noctis’s act.   
  
Noctis tried not to frown instinctively. Was false bravado all he needed to keep them off his back? Surely that wasn’t the case, but it seemed to be working, so…  
  
“It was really fun!” said Iris, piping up from behind him. “There was sand and the ocean went on forever and it was really cool!”  
  
“That _is_ the seaside, Lady Iris,” said Ignis, smiling slightly awkwardly. He didn’t seem to be expecting the two of them to be in such high spirits.   
  
“It was great! I hope we can go again some time,” she said, looking pointedly at Noctis, who coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. Given how Gladio had reacted, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to.   
  
“If you don’t mind, Iris, I’d like to have a quick chat with Noct,” said Ignis, smiling in a somewhat menacing manner.   
  
Iris just grinned and went indoors; Noctis was half-inclined to go in after her but remained rooted to the spot. Whatever Ignis was going to say, he should probably hear it now.   
  
Instead of launching into a speech like Noctis expected him to, he merely looked somewhat sad, and said, “If you could follow me, Noct.”  
  
He began walking up towards the lighthouse, and the cliff leading out onto the ocean. Noctis followed just behind, apprehensive but also...intrigued. This was the first time Ignis actually seemed reluctant to talk to him, other than back at Lestallum. But he didn’t seem resentful this time, just...distant, somehow. It was strange.   
  
Eventually, they reached the edge of the cliff, looking out onto the vast expanse of ocean below. The wind blew cold, through his hair and his clothes, chilling him to the bone. He could almost taste the salt in the air. Soon he would face Leviathan again. Perhaps Ignis knew that?   
  
“Tell me, Noct,” he said, looking out over the sea. “What do you want to do next?”  
  
“Next?”  
  
“Well we’re by way of being stuck until Cid can obtain the ore he needs,” said Ignis, turning back towards him. “I take it he told you about that?”  
  
“Yeah,” said Noctis, now looking out at the sea himself. It seemed much angrier up here than it had on the beach. “Said you sorted the price too.”  
  
“I did, but you haven’t answered the question.”  
  
“No,” said Noctis, smiling, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. “Guess I haven’t. There’s only one thing we _can_ do, right?”  
  
“Go on.”

“We find the mythril, bring it back to Cid. Easy.”  
  
Ignis sighed, though not with disappointment—no, it was something else, something in-between, and Noctis couldn’t quite tell what it was.   
  
“I see,” he said, turning back towards the ocean again. “Permit me a question, Noct.”  
  
“Sure,” said Noctis, raising his eyebrows a tad.   
  
“Why?”   
  
“Why what, Specs?”   
  
“Why do all this?” he asked, and there was that same, sad distance in his voice again. “Why chase after every task like your life depends on it? Can you not see the end of this?”  
  
“Of course I can,” said Noctis, frowning. “That’s the point. Unless we do something, then—”  
  
“Then what?” said Ignis, turning back towards him again. “What’s driving you like this Noctis?” he asked, and he seemed...upset, almost.   
  
“Listen, Ignis, I…”   
  
He paused for a moment, thinking about what it was that he wanted to say, really. Not everything, but _something._   
  
“I’ve been...noticing things since we left Insomnia,” he said, with a great effort not to let himself flinch under Ignis’s stern gaze. “The nights getting shorter, daemons getting stronger, animals acting...strange. Plus the Empire’s on the move. You’ve got to have noticed too, right? We have to do something now, before it...before it gets worse. We have to take back Insomnia. Soon it will be too late—I can feel it.”  
  
“You...want to take back Insomnia?” asked Ignis, and he seemed completely bewildered, as though Noctis had told him pigs could fly. “But Noctis, that’s…”  
  
“That’s what?” asked Noctis. Why was Ignis so confused? Hadn’t that been their goal from the start? Wasn’t all of this to save Insomnia?  
  
“That’s...truly what you want to do?”   
  
“Of course it is, Ignis!” he said, now getting frustrated. “Why else would I be doing all this? For fun? To wear myself down for the Empire until they finally kill me? No! To get our home back—to help the people of Lucis. That’s the entire point! Can’t you see that?”  
  
“I…”  
  
Ignis seemed to be at a loss. He slowly pushed his glasses up his nose, and looked down at the ground, as though it held all the secrets of the earth at his feet. Noctis, for his part, had no idea what was going on. How could Ignis not know this? It didn’t make sense. But Ignis remained silent. He didn’t seem to want to talk.   
  
“Is...everything okay?” asked Noctis, hoping he hadn’t upset Ignis by snapping like that. “I didn’t mean to get angry.”  
  
“No, Noct, it’s fine,” said Ignis, shaking his head and standing up straighter. “I just need to think. And, please, remember something for me?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’m always here for you Noct, be it as a friend...or an advisor.”  
  
Then he turned on his heel, and walked back down the cliff towards the lighthouse, leaving Noctis alone as his thoughts went round and round in a blur.   
  
Had he missed something? Was there some piece of the puzzle that had gotten lost that Ignis didn’t know what their goal was? He couldn’t work it out. And everything else was building up as well—had he given too much away? Would Ignis think he was exaggerating? He had no idea. But they had their goal at least. Find the mythril, get to Altissia. But would it even still be at Steyliff Grove? Wasn’t it possible the Empire, under the guidance of Ardyn, had already moved it elsewhere? They were moving so quickly this time. If only he had some way of knowing what they were doing…  
  
Suddenly a horrible, screeching, cracking noise exploded in his head.   
  
He instinctively flinched and put his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sound coming from all around him.   
  
Bright lights flashed behind his eyelids, and he saw intense flashes of something...moving. He opened his eyes and he felt like his brain was splitting in two. He could see the cliff and the waves far below, but also a dark, grimy lab—his vision flashing and changing even in front of his very eyes.  
  
Something was moving in the lab, a black, amorphous mass, shifting and growing, making that terrible, terrible sound he’d heard before. A demon. It had to be. It was screaming and growing and as it moved Noctis could feel something deep inside him, pulling him towards the creature—and he could hear, very clearly, what it wanted. Some overpowering _urge_ to go to it, to spread, to _destroy._   
  
Quite suddenly, Noctis had a moment of clarity. This was the Niflheim lab—where they made the MTs. The outbreak was happening in front of his very eyes. This was _bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, another fun chapter, although for quite different reasons! It was nice having Noct actually...well, talk to one of the bros again, since he's been so intently avoiding them lately. Also, more plot! Things are starting to move forward again! Also this is your formal warning that with Uni work piling up I may move to updating every two weeks rather than every week, since it's getting a bit intense for me right now. 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and if so let me know!


	42. Looking from the Outside

Prompto shuddered as he walked outside. Despite the sun shining overhead, the breeze off the sea made the top of the cliff where they were staying oddly cold. Not for the first time, he wished he’d thought to bring a jacket with sleeves. How was he to know they’d be gone for so long?

He shook himself. He was already getting distracted! He had things to do—first among them: find where Noct had gotten to. He knew Ignis had probably given him something of an earful again, and as such was probably in need of some cheering up. It was worrying how down he’d been lately, and if Prompto could do anything to get that sad, vacant expression off his face, he’d do it.

Speaking of which, he could see Noct in the distance, looking out over the cliff, near the lighthouse. He seemed...preoccupied. Not that that had ever stopped Prompto before.

“Noct!” he called out, trying to get Noct’s attention.

Noct just stared out over the sea, not even turning towards Prompto. Maybe he didn’t want to see him? Prompto quickly thrust that thought to the back of his mind. Even in his worst moods, Noct was always happy to see him. Right?

As he got closer though, Prompto began to suspect the issue was more that Noct hadn’t heard him at all. He wasn’t exactly...there. Well he was, obviously, but he was motionless—like he’d been frozen to the spot. Prompto began to slow down his pace a little. He didn’t want to alarm Noct if he was having another of his...episodes. Prompto tried to push away the thought that this was _wrong_ and Noct should be happy and joking and...fine, like he was before. All of this felt so horribly, horribly wrong.

He approached Noct cautiously from the side.

“Hey, Noct?” he asked, trying to get a good look at his face.

Noct was just standing and staring straight ahead, unblinking. Even through his sunglasses, Prompto could see the deep, dark circles under Noct’s eyes. He’d noticed Noct’s absence in the morning, obviously, but he’d been doing it almost constantly since they left Hammerhead. Plus there were the nightmares Ignis was ranting about earlier. Noct probably hadn’t been getting _any_ sleep lately. Didn’t really explain why he was frozen though. Even sleep deprivation wouldn’t do that.

He reached out to put a gentle hand on Noct’s shoulder. Nothing too much, to begin with.

At least, that’s what he’d thought.

The moment his hand touched Noct’s shoulder, Noct flinched away from him with _force_ , gasping as though he’d been drowning. Prompto felt a panic surge up inside him, but quickly went to grab Noct by the shoulders and stop him from hurting himself accidentally. It would be no good if he fell and hit his head or something.

“Noct?” he asked, trying to bring Noctis out of whatever trance he was in. “Noct it’s me, Prompto? You remember me, right?”

“Yes...yeah,” said Noct, panting and looking around wildly, as though he thought something was chasing him. Prompto resisted the urge to look over his shoulder.

“You okay, buddy?” asked Prompto, not sure if he wanted an answer.

“Yes...no...we need to leave,” said Noct, before trying to stagger back to the house and immediately falling to his knees, despite Prompto’s best efforts to catch him.

“Woah there, you aren’t going anywhere!” said Prompto, quickly moving over to him and lifting him up by his shoulders.

He was a little lighter than usual. Prompto had noticed it back in Lestallum too. Noct had been losing weight since they’d gone on this trip. Ignis had had a fit earlier about him not eating, but something at the back of Prompto’s mind niggled that it was more than that. Something deeper, more worrying. He tried to push it aside. He needed to concentrate on getting him back to the house first.

“Prompto, listen, we need to go to Steyliff,” mumbled Noct, still doing his damnedest to stay conscious.

Prompto almost wanted to tell him to let it go and get some sleep, but held back. Noct seemed to be in the grasp of some sort of feverish delusion, and telling him to stop probably wouldn’t help. It was quite impressive he’d managed to stay conscious this long at all.

“We need to get back to the house first, Noct,” said Prompto, hoping Noct was still awake enough to know what he meant.

“Yeah,” said Noct, sighing deeply. Had Prompto not known better he’d have thought Noct almost seemed disappointed.

He quietened down after that, to Prompto’s relief. The last thing he needed was to try and maintain conversation with a delirious and dazed Noct. It didn’t take him long to carry Noct back to the house, though even with his slightly lightened load, Noct was still taller than him and still weighed a _lot_.

As he staggered through the door, he immediately caught the attention of Ignis and Gladio, who’d been talking at the table. The moment Gladio realised what had happened, he sighed deeply, moved over to Prompto and lifted Noct from his shoulders. Noct offered no words of protest, and now Prompto could see his face again, he was alarmed to notice his eyes seemed to have rolled back in his head, and he’d fallen unconscious. Gladio quickly pulled him up so he was carrying him in his arms, and turned back to Prompto and Ignis.

“I’ll take him up to bed; let him sleep this one off,” he said, rolling his eyes and starting to carry Noct upstairs.

“Right,” said Prompto, suddenly hit by a great sense of fatigue.

He moved over to the table and just flopped down into one of the seats, heart racing. Shit, when had he gotten so nervous? Noct was going to be fine. He always was. This was just...another stumble, that’s all. He could still feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins from seeing Noct flinch away from him though, still feel the alarm in his chest at seeing him fall to his knees, barely able to keep going. All of this was so very, very wrong. He didn’t want to lose his friend, and yet, with every moment Noct seemed to be slipping further and further away. It scared him.

“...Is everything alright, Prompto?” asked Ignis, looking over in his direction.

“Huh?” asked Prompto, trying not to jump. He hadn’t expected Ignis to notice him. “Yeah it’s fine. Just...kind of tiring, you know?”

“I know,” said Ignis, with a sad smile on his face.

Prompto instinctively shrunk back a little. Of course it was bad for him, losing his friend like this, but it must be horrible for Ignis. He’d known Noct his whole life. It had to be hitting him the worst. Prompto felt a horrible gulf between him and the rest of the group hitting him square in the chest. His pain was nothing to theirs. He shouldn’t worry them like this.

Perhaps this really was his fault. But no, that was stupid. It was more than that. It had to be.

Gladio soon appeared at the top of the stairs again.

“Well, sleeping beauty’s been put to bed,” he said, with a false sense of cheeriness. “Any idea why he fainted this time, Prompto?”

“He seemed kind of sick, actually,” said Prompto, remembering the kind of delirious haze Noct had been in. “Like he had a fever or something.”

“He might be coming down with something serious,” said Ignis, with a long-suffering sigh. “It wouldn’t be surprising, between the lack of sleep and general stress…”

“Damn, I thought he’d of grown out of that by now,” said Gladio, sitting back down at the table with a frown.

“Grown out of getting sick?” asked Prompto, confused.

“Ah, our young Prince was quite the sickly child, Prompto,” said Ignis, with a distant smile. “He’s been better since he left high school, as I suspect you may have noticed, but he seems to be having some sort of relapse.”

“Well, it’s like you said, right? He’s stressed,” said Prompto, more trying to reassure himself than the others.

“Yes...stressed,” said Ignis, with a tired-sounding sigh. “...Though I’ll admit, I’m beginning to suspect our Imperial friends did more to him than he’s letting on.”

“What?” said Prompto, now feeling a deep sense of panic in his chest. “How do mean, Ignis?”

“Ah, I was afraid I might be overreacting, I’m sure it’s nothing, but…”

“Tell us what’s up, Iggy,” said Gladio, frowning and leaning over the table. “We should all hear about this.”

“Well it’s just...his nightmares have been worse since we found him, and he’s been even more out of sorts than usual,” said Ignis, not even hiding his worried frown. “He seems almost...afraid of us. I just wondered if the Imperials had done something...but it’s probably nothing.”

“No, you’re right,” said Gladio, now looking worried himself. “He’s been creeping off on his own more and more as well. Something happened to him on that ship.”

“Wait wait wait,” said Prompto, his mind racing, so much so he was beginning to feel slightly sick. “You don’t think he was...they didn’t…”

“I don’t know,” said Ignis, and his voice was quiet and serious. “He just seems to be getting worse, that’s all.”

“Yeah…” said Prompto, wiping his eyes, hoping no one else would see him beginning to tear up. It was just...so much. “Did he seem...okay, when you left?” he asked, desperately needing some sort of distraction.

“Well he...he said something quite interesting,” said Ignis, as though he’d only just remembered.

“What was it?” asked Gladio, leaning over the table.

“He wants to take back Insomnia.”

“What? That’s crazy!” said Gladio, pushing himself back again. “Insomnia’s gone. There’s no way we can get it back now.”

“He seems to think otherwise,” said Ignis, clearly thinking hard about the matter. “In fact, I got the impression that’s what he’s wanted from the start.”

“Wait, you mean he’s doing all this because—” began Prompto, before being quickly cut off by Ignis.

“Yes, it seems he’s had this in mind all along. It’s almost as though the idea’s...consumed him. I assume that’s why he’s been behaving so oddly up until now.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” said Gladio, who still seemed amazed. “That does make sense though, I suppose. Might have told us though.”

“Maybe he didn’t think he needed to,” said Prompto, thinking aloud.

“Maybe,” said Ignis, suddenly looking at him quite sharply. “The matter remains, however, that he’s going to drive himself into the ground if he keeps going like this. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it.”

“Yeah,” said Gladio, sighing.

“He said we need to go to Steyliff,” said Prompto, figuring it was about time he mentioned that little detail.

“We can’t, not with the state he’s in,” said Ignis, now becoming stern. “He needs to recover from whatever it is he’s come down with before we go anywhere.”

“...He’s not going to like _that_ , Iggy,” said Gladio, raising his eyebrows.

“I could care less about what he ‘likes’ with regards to health at the moment,” said Ignis, with a rather haughty sniff.

Noct has been driving Ignis up the wall for a while. Prompto knew a breaking point when he saw one. It would _probably_ be for the best. At least, he hoped so.

And that was Prompto’s last coherent thought before the quiet of the house was shattered by a terrible scream from upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A new POV? I thought I'd try my hand at writing one of the bros this chapter, since we haven't really seen how they've been dealing with all this mess. It was quite interesting to think about it from a different character's perspective for a change!
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone still reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if so, let me know!


	43. Awakening

Noctis was beginning to grow used to the endless, penetrating blackness that seemed to permeate his subconscious. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep this time. He wasn’t even sure if he  _ was _ asleep. Nothing seemed important. Nothing seemed real. Everything he fretted and wondered about while awake seemed to fade into the background, like a vast, unstoppable current had wiped their importance from his mind. He was alone. He was at peace.

And then he felt something sharp in his right palm. 

Like a kind of twinge or spasm—causing Noctis to suddenly realise where he was: floating in an endless sea of darkness. 

Although he was now awake to the reality of his position, he still couldn’t quite bring himself to care. It was unusual perhaps, but did that really matter? Did anything really matter?

Another sharp pain in his hand. This time he moved his hand into his view, irritated at it disturbing the strange sense of peace all around. At first he couldn’t see anything amiss. His hand looked perfectly normal. Completely unremarkable, in fact. Nothing to worry about. 

Then, slowly, almost without him quite realising it, it began to change. 

First, the veins running under his skin seemed to stand out a bit more than usual, creating an odd pattern of bumps on the back of his hand. This in itself was nothing to worry about, even if he’d been slightly alarmed when it happened to him as a child. No, he only began to worry when slowly, subtly, the veins began to become clearer beneath his pale skin, growing...darker. The sharp pain in his palm was getting worse now too; biting up his wrist. He turned his hand over.

A black, amorphous fluid was leaking from a gory hole in the centre of his palm. Noctis bit back the urge to scream, instead only making a horrible choking sound. The fluid dripped from his hand, then over his fingers, as his veins got blacker and blacker beneath his skin. 

The pain came from all over now: arms, wrists, legs; spine, skull—every bone in his body seemed to ache with a terrible, electrical pulse. He could see his hands shaking wildly, unable to stop them as his breath came faster and faster, and the pain got worse. 

The ichor leaking from the open wound on his hand was spreading now, it’s glutinous mass inching its way up his arm, burning as it went. His veins felt like they had flames running through them rather than blood. His vision was getting blurrier, and with the haze he found himself reaching out with other senses, trying desperately to maintain some hold on what was going on. The only thing he could make out clearly was that the ichor was all over him now—blotting out the light...was there light? He didn’t know. Darkness seemed to come from every direction. 

Then he heard a voice.

“Ah, trying your best to be indifferent I see,” it said, and with horror Noctis began to slowly recognise its owner. “In your dreams at least. You poor thing. Everything’s beginning to unravel and you have no idea why. I do though. Or perhaps you just  _ think _ I do. It’s difficult to tell in here, isn’t it?”

Ardyn’s slimy, patronising voice was unmistakable, even with ichor blocking out almost every sense. 

“You know I’ve already won, don’t you, Noctis?” he asked, a kind of strange gleeful lilt to his voice now. “The Starscourge is in your blood and I control the Starscourge...therefore, I control  _ you _ .”

For a moment all Noctis could process was that he was suddenly in blinding agony, the pain beneath his skin getting infinitely worse as Ardyn did  _ something _ to him. He could feel something foreign and powerful moving through his bones—was this some kind of prophecy? But then, something shifted. 

For a moment the weight of the Starscourge seemed to vanish entirely and Noctis was suddenly able to breathe again as the darkness leaked away. But almost as soon as it had faded, the pain came back. This was a different pain though, not dark and poisonous like the Starscourge—no, it was brilliant and crackling and blazing with light. Burning him from the inside out. 

He couldn’t stop himself from screaming this time. It was just too much. Far, far too much. 

“Hmm,” came Ardyn’s horrible grating voice. “How strange. But perhaps not. Ah, you don’t remember yet do you? No, not that strange at all. How terrible.”

Noctis had no idea what Ardyn was talking about and he didn’t care in the slightest. All he could focus on was the surging, sparking force pushing itself through his flesh, burning on contact with the air, splitting the darkness into pieces. 

It burned.

He screamed. 

* * *

He wasn’t entirely sure when he came fully back to consciousness in the real world. It seemed to come in phases. One moment he was there, staring at four terrified faces looking down on him, then he was back in the dream, light pouring from his body, burning everything into scorching numbness. Gradually, the dream began to fade away and the real world came back into view. It was a while before he fully comprehended where he was though.

When he came back into full possession of his senses, the first thing he noticed was that, miserably, he was also in pain in the waking world. Not the agonising, torturous pain from before—just a deep ache in his throat and chest, and pangs of pain in his feet and arms where he guessed he hit himself while flailing around. 

The second thing he noticed was that he was horrendously cold. It was like he’d been dunked in a bucket of ice-water. His clothes were wet too—probably with sweat, and now were clinging to him and chilling him to the bone. He felt himself shivering, even though his muscles ached as they contracted back and forth. 

The third thing he noticed, after all of the other general discomfort, was that he was not alone. His friends were spread about the room, Ignis and Iris either side of his bed, Prompto peering at him a chair he’d pulled over, and Gladio frowning down at him from above. They’d all come to attention once they realised he’d regained consciousness. This was bad. 

“What…” he tried to say, but his throat burned as though he’d swallowed boiling water. 

“Noctis?” asked Ignis, leaning over him, an expression of such exhausted worry on his face Noctis almost wanted to burst out crying. 

“What happened?” he asked, finally managing to get the words to come out.

“Good question,” said Gladio, and though he was doing his best to remain stoic, Noct could hear the slight edge in his voice that meant he was worried too. 

“Another seizure, I believe,” said Ignis, doing his best to remain calm. “You gave us quite the scare, Noct.” 

“Yeah,” said Iris, her voice unusually subdued and quiet. She seemed the most...put-out of all of them. The others had gotten used to this. She didn’t know what to do. Noctis felt a stab of guilt. 

“Any water?” he rasped, realising he couldn’t very well keep talking with the condition his throat was in. 

“Here,” said Ignis, passing him a glass, clearly having expected this to happen. 

Prompto had remained notably silent up until now, just staring at him blankly from the end of the bed. Now it seemed like he wanted to say something. 

“Noct are you...okay?” he asked, and though it was a simple question Noctis felt himself instinctively clamming up. 

Then something from the very back of his mind, past his internal fears and worries, reached out and answered for him.

“No,” he said, without even so much as a tremor in his tone. “But it doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean  _ it doesn’t matter? _ ” hissed Ignis, now truly annoyed, but Noctis ignored it. 

“I mean ‘it doesn’t matter,’ Ignis,” he said, keeping his voice as level as possible. Something inside him was guiding him, telling him what to do—like his dream had awakened a sixth sense in his head that knew precisely how to deal with this. He didn’t think too hard about it. He couldn’t afford to. Not right now. “This is more than just me, we have to look further.”

“To what, Noct?” asked Gladio, who also seemed angry. “There’s nothing  _ to _ look at!”

“If that’s really what you thought then you wouldn’t be here at all,” said Noctis, having the realisation even as he spoke. “If you thought this was all leading to nothing you’d have abandoned me. But you haven’t.” 

Yet.

“Noctis you’re sick, you can’t go anywhere right now, why don’t we try to talk this through logically—” said Ignis, before Noctis cut him off. 

“No, you don’t understand—” 

“Don’t understand what?” asked Gladio, almost growling. 

“Quiet!” yelled Iris, and silence fell over the room. “Can’t you see you’re all talking past each other? Noct—do you have something to say?”

“I...I had another vision,” said Noctis, praying to the Six that this would work. “I think it’s the Astrals showing me—the world ending. If we don’t do anything.” 

“What?” asked Prompto, completely aghast.

“How do you know these visions are true, Noctis?” asked Ignis, very slowly and carefully, trying to get ahold of the situation. 

“I...I don’t…” he began, before an idea sprung into his mind. More lies, but good ones this time. “Luna told me—kind of, when we met in Lestallum.”

“And you forgot to let us know?” asked Gladio.

“I didn’t understand at the time,” said Noctis, doing his damnedest to sound convincing. “I thought she must be exaggerating or something but now...I know it’s true. Please—I’m doing everything I can.”

Ignis’s eyes softened a little then and Gladio backed off a little. It seemed like that got through to them. 

“What do you want to do next then, Noct?” asked Iris, looking at him with large, worried eyes. 

“We need to get to Steyliff. As soon as possible.”   
  



End file.
